UC-NRLF 


B   3   33^    711 


I.C.D.  LIBSAN 


tTbe  Butbor'0  Butograpb  B&ition  of 
Timorfcs  will  be  complete  in  fortg  volumes.    1ft  is 
limited  to  500  set0,  of  wbicb  tbig  is  Bo /..7.:il 


Hutbor's  Butograpb  EMtion 


*  THE  CRAYON  Mis 

CELLANY     *      #      * 

BY  WASHINGTON  IRVING    ft 


Volume    f. 


NEW  YORK  &  LONDON  &  G. 
P.  PUTNAM'S    SONS    #     1896 


UNIVERSITY  0F 


WIVE  OTIT  0F  CALIFORNIA 

8  Ml  Hi* DA 


COPYRIGHT,  1895 

BY 
G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Ube  Iknicfcerbocher  press 

NEW    ROCHELLE,    NEW    YORK 


Crayon  fllM8cellan\> 

AUTHOR'S  AUTOGRAPH  EDITION 


Contents* 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION xi 

A  TOUR  ON  THE  PRAIRIES i 

CHAP.  I.  —  The  Pawnee  Hunting  Grounds  — 
Travelling  Companions— A  Commissioner — 
A  Virtuoso — A  Seeker  of  Adventures — A  Gil 
Bias  of  the  Frontier— A  Young  Man's  Antici 
pations  of  Pleasure I 

CHAP.  II.  —  Anticipations  Disappointed  —  New 
Plans — Preparations  to  Join  an  Exploring 
Party — Departure  from  Fort  Gibson — Ford 
ing  of  the  Verdigris — An  Indian  Cavalier.  .  8 

CHAP.  III.  —  An  Indian  Agency  —  Riflemen  — 
Osages,  Creeks,  Trappers,  Dogs,  Horses,  Half- 
breeds — Beatte,  the  Huntsman  .  .  .14 

CHAP.  IV.— The  Departure 20 

CHAP.  V. — Frontier  Scenes — A  Lycurgus  of  the 
Border — Lynch' s  I/aw — The  Danger  of  Find 
ing  a  Horse —  The  Young  Osage  .  .  .24 

CHAP.  VI.— Trail  of  the  Osage  Hunters— Depar 
ture  of  the  Count  and  his  Party — A  Deserted 
War-camp — A  Vagrant  Dog — The  Bncamp- 
ment 31 

VOL  I.  V 


Contents 


PACT 

CHAP.  VII.— News  of  the  Rangers— The  Count 
and  his  Indian  Squire — Halt  in  the  Woods — 
Woodland  Scene  —  Osage  Village  —  Osage 
Visitors  at  our  Evening  Camp  .  .  .36 

CHAP.  VIII. — The  Honey  Camp     .        .         .        -47 
CHAP.  IX.— A  Bee-Hunt 51 

CHAP.  X. — Amusements  in  the  Camp — Consulta 
tions — Hunters'  Fare  and  Feasting — Evening 
Scenes  —  Camp  Melody  —  The  Fate  of  an 
Amateur  Owl 57 

CHAP.  XI. — Breaking  up  of  the  Encampment — 
Picturesque  March — Game — Camp  Scenes — 
Triumph  of  a  Young  Hunter — 111  Success  of 
Old  Hunters — Foul  Murder  of  a  Polecat  .  65 

CHAP.  XII.— The  Crossing  of  the  Arkansas  .         .     75 

CHAP.  XIII.—  THE  CAMP  OF  THE  GI,EN— Camp 
Gossip — Pawnees  and  their  Habits — A  Hun 
ter's  Adventure — Horses  Found,  and  Men 
Lost 80 

CHAP.  XIV. — Deer-shooting — Life  on  the  Prairies 
— Beautiful  Encampment — Hunter's  Luck — 
Anecdotes  of  the  Delawares  and  their  Super 
stitions  ........  92 

CHAP.   XV.— The  Search  for  the  Elk— Pawnee 

Stories 102 

CHAP.  XVI.— A  Sick  Camp— The  March— The 
Disabled  Horse — Old  Ryan  and  the  Stragglers 
—  Symptoms  of  Change  of  Weather,  and 
Change  of  Humors in 


Contents 


PAGE 

CHAP.  XVII.— Thunder-storm  on  the  Prairies— 
The  Storm-Encampment — Night  Scene — In 
dian  Stories — A  Frightened  Horse  .  .  .119 

CHAP.  XVIII.— A  Grand  Prairie— Cliff  Castle- 
Buffalo  Tracks — Deer  Hunted  by  Wolves — 
Cross  Timber 127 

CHAP.  XIX.  —  Hunters'  Anticipations  —  The 
Rugged  Ford— A  Wild  Horse  .  .  .  .133 

CHAP.  XX.— THE  CAMP  OF  THE  WII,D  HORSE— 
Hunters'  Stories— Habits  of  the  Wild  Horse 
— The  Half-Breed  and  His  Prize — A  Horse 
Chase— A  Wild  Spirit  Tamed  .  .  .  .140 

CHAP.  XXI.— The  Fording  of  the  Red  Fork— 
The  Dreary  Forests  of  the  "  Cross  Timber  "— 
Buffalo ! 150 

CHAP.  XXII.— The  Alarm  Camp  .        .        .        .156 

CHAP.  XXIII.— Beaver  Dam— Buffalo  and  Horse 
Tracks— A  Pawnee  Trail— Wild  Horses— The 
Young  Hunter  and  the  Bear — Change  of 
Route 168 

CHAP.  XXIV. — Scarcity  of  Bread — Rencontre 
with  Buffaloes  —  Wild  Turkeys  — Fall  of  a 
Buffalo  Bull 175 

CHAP.  XXV.— Ringing  the  Wild  Horse      .        .  181 

CHAP.  XXVI.— Fording  of  the  North  Fork- 
Dreary  Scenery  of  the  Cross  Timber — Scam 
per  of  Horses  in  the  Night — Osage  War-Party 
— Effects  of  a  Peace  Harangue — Buffalo — 
Wild  Horse  .  188 


viii  Contents 


PAGE 

CHAP.  XXVII. — Foul-weather  Encampment — 
Anecdotes  of  Bear-Hunting — Indian  Notions 
About  Omens — Scruples  Respecting  the  Dead  195 

CHAP.  XXVIII.— A  Secret  Expedition— Deer- 
Bleating — Magic  Balls 208 

CHAP.  XXIX.— The  Grand  Prairie— A  Buffalo 
Hunt 215 

CHAP.  XXX. — A  Comrade  Lost — A  Search  for 
the  Camp  —  The  Commissioner,  the  Wild 
Horse,  and  the  Buffalo— A  Wolf  Serenade  .  228 

CHAP.  XXXI.— A  Hunt  for  a  Lost  Comrade         .  234 
CHAP.  XXXII.— A  Republic  of  Prairie-Dogs      .  241 

CHAP.  XXXIII.  —  A  Council  in  the  Camp  — 
Reasons  for  Facing  Homewards — Horses  Lost 
— Departure  with  a  Detatchment  on  the 
Homeward  Route — Swamp — Wild  Horse — 
Camp-Scene  by  Night — The  Owl,  Harbinger 
of  Dawn 247 

CHAP.  XXXIV. —  Old  Creek  Encampment  — 
Scarcity  of  Provisions — Bad  Weather — Weary 
Marching — A  Hunter's  Bridge  .  .  .  259 

CHAP.  XXXV.— A  Look-out  for  Land— Hard 
Travelling  and  Hungry  Halting — A  Frontier 
Farm-house — Arrival  at  the  Garrison  .  ,  267 

ABBOTSFORD 279 


illustrations 

PAGE 
THE  WILD  HUNTSMAN  AND  HIS  CAPTIVE  HORSE  . 

Frontispiece 
Photogravure.    From  a  drawing  by  Frederick  Dielman 

See  page  144. 

HUNTERS'  CAMP,  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS      .  .  .      12 

From  an  old  print 

INDIANS  PLAYING  BAU, 24 

Based  on  a  drawing  by  Capt.  S.  Eastman,  U.S.A. 

BULL  ELK  FIGHTING 98 

From  a  drawing  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

AN  OSAGE  INDIAN  IN  FULL  DRESS  .  .  .    206 

From  a  drawing  by  Geo.  Catlin 

HEAD  OF  BUFFALO  BULL  l 224 

From  a  drawing  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

A  WOLE  HOWLING  IN  THE  WILDERNESS          .          .    232 
From  a  drawing  by  F.  S.  Church 

HEAD  OF  PRONG-HORN  BUCK1  ....    250 

From  a  drawing  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

1  Reproduced,  by  permission,  from  Hunting  Trips  of  a  Ranch 
man,  by  Theodore  Roosevelt. 


Illustrations 


ABBOTSFORD 

MEI,ROSE  ABBEY,  NAVE  AND  AISLES       .  .          .280 

Photogravure.    From  a  photograph  * 

MEI.ROSE  ABBEY  FROM  THE  EAST  .  .          .   290 

From  a  photograph  x 

ABBOTSFORD— RIVER  FRONT 312 

From  a  photograph  1 

ABBOTSFORD — GARDEN  FRONT        ....   334 
Photogravure.    From  a  photograph  * 

THE  STUDY — ABBOTSFORD 352 

From  a  photograph  1 

1  Reproduced,  by  permission,  from  a  photograph  by  G.  W« 
Wilson,  of  Aberdeen. 


tfntrofcuctiom 

HAVING,  since  my  return  to  the  United 
States,  made  a  wide  and  varied  tour, 
for  the  gratification  of  my  curiosity,  it 
has  been  supposed  that  I  did  it  for  the  purpose 
of  writing  a  book  ;  and  it  has  more  than  once 
been  intimated  in  the  papers,  that  such  a  work 
was  actually  in  the  press,  containing  scenes  and 
sketches  of  the  Far  West. 

These  announcements,  gratuitously  made  for 
me,  before  I  had  put  pen  to  paper,  or  even  con 
templated  anything  of  the  kind,  have  embar 
rassed  me  exceedingly.  I  have  been  like  a  poor 
actor,  who  finds  himself  announced  for  a  part 
he  had  no  thought  of  playing,  and  his  appear 
ance  expected  on  the  stage  before  he  had  com 
mitted  a  line  to  memory. 

I  have  always  had  a  repugnance,  amounting 
almost  to  disability,  to  write  in  the  face  of  ex 
pectation  ;  and,  in  the  present  instance,  I  was 
expected  to  write  about  a  region  fruitful  of  won- 

xi 


UntroDuction 


ders  and  adventures,  and  which  had  already 
been  made  the  theme  of  spirit-stirring  narratives 
from  able  pens,  yet  about  which  I  had  nothing 
wonderful  or  adventurous  to  offer. 

Since  such,  however,  seems  to  be  the  desire 
of  the  public,  and  that  they  take  sufficient  in 
terest  in  my  wanderings  to  deem  them  worthy 
of  recital,  I  have  hastened,  as  promptly  as  pos 
sible,  to  meet  in  some  degree  the  expectation 
which  others  have  excited.  For  this  purpose,  I 
have,  as  it  were,  plucked  a  few  leaves  out  of  my 
memorandum  book,  containing  a  month's  foray 
beyond  the  outposts  of  human  habitation,  into 
the  wilderness  of  the  Far  West.  It  forms, 
indeed,  but  a  small  portion  of  an  extensive  tour ; 
but  it  is  an  episode,  complete  as  far  as  it  goes. 
As  such  I  offer  it  to  the  public  with  great  diffi 
dence.  It  is  a  simple  narrative  of  every-day 
occurrences,  such  as  happen  to  every  one  who 
travels  the  prairies.  I  have  no  wonders  to  de 
scribe,  nor  any  moving  accidents  by  flood  or 
field  to  narrate  ;  and  as  to  those  who  look  for  a 
marvellous  or  adventurous  story  at  my  hands,  I 
can  only  reply  in  the  words  of  the  weary  knife- 
grinder  :  "  Story  !  God  bless  you,  I  have  none 
to  tell,  sir." 


H  £our  on  tbe  prairies* 


A  TOUR  ON  THE  PRAIRIES. 


Cbapter  U, 

The  Pawnee  Hunting  Grounds — Travelling  Compan 
ions — A  Commissioner — A  Virtuoso — A  Seeker  of 
Adventures— A  Gil  Bias  of  the  Frontier— A  Young 
Man's  Anticipations  of  Pleasure. 

IN  the  often  vaunted  regions  of  the  Far 
West,  several  hundred  miles  beyond  the 
Mississippi,  extends  a  vast  tract  of  unin 
habited  country,  where  there  is  neither  to  be 
seen  the  log  house  of  the  white  man,  nor  the 
wigwam  of  the  Indian.  It  consists  of  great 
grassy  plains,  interspersed  with  forests  and 
groves,  and  clumps  of  trees,  and  watered  by 
the  Arkansas,  the  Grand  Canadian,  the  Red 
River,  and  their  tributary  streams.  Over  these 
fertile  and  verdant  wastes  still  roam  the  elk, 


dragon 


the  buffalo,  and  the  wild  horse,  in  all  their 
native  freedom.  These,  in  fact,  are  the  hunt 
ing  grounds  of  the  various  tribes  of  the  Far 
West.  Hither  repair  the  Osage,  the  Creek, 
the  Delaware  and  other  tribes  that  have  linked 
themselves  with  civilization,  and  live  within 
the  vicinity  of  the  white  settlements.  Here 
resort  also  the  Pawnees,  the  Comanches,  and 
other  fierce  and  as  yet  independent  tribes,  the 
nomads  of  the  prairies,  or  the  inhabitants  of  the 
skirts  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  regions  I 
have  mentioned  form  a  debatable  ground  of  these 
warring  and  vindictive  tribes ;  none  of  them 
presume  to  erect  a  permanent  habitation  within 
its  borders.  Their  hunters  and  " braves"  re 
pair  thither  in  numerous  bodies  during  the 
season  of  game,  throw  up  their  transient  hunt 
ing-camps,  consisting  of  light  bowers  covered 
with  bark  and  skins,  commit  sad  havoc  among 
the  innumerable  herds  that  graze  the  prairies, 
and  having  loaded  themselves  with  venison  and 
buffalo  meat,  warily  retire  from  the  dangerous 
neighborhood.  These  expeditions  partake, 
always,  of  a  warlike  character  ;  the  hunters  are 
all  armed  for  action,  offensive  and  defensive, 
and  are  bound  to  incessant  vigilance.  Should 
they,  in  their  excursions,  meet  the  hunters  of 
an  adverse  tribe,  savage  conflicts  take  place. 
Their  encampments,  too,  are  always  subject  to 


4 

a  tlout  on  tbe  prairies  3 

be  surprised  by  wandering  war  parties,  and 
their  hunters,  when  scattered  in  pursuit  of 
game,  to  be  captured  or  massacred  by  lurking 
foes.  Mouldering  skulls  and  skeletons,  bleach 
ing  in  some  dark  ravine  or  near  the  traces  of  a 
hunting-camp,  occasionally  mark  the  scene  of 
a  foregone  act  of  blood,  and  let  the  wanderer 
know  the  dangerous  nature  of  the  region  he  is 
traversing.  It  is  the  purport  of  the  following 
pages  to  narrate  a  month's  excursion  to  these 
noted  hunting-grounds,  through  a  tract  of 
country  which  had  not  as  yet  been  explored 
by  white  men. 

It  was  early  in  October,  1832,  that  I  arrived 
at  Fort  Gibson,  a  frontier  post  of  the  Far  West, 
situated  on  the  Neosho,  or  Grand  River,  near 
its  confluence  with  the  Arkansas.  I  had  been 
travelling  for  a  month  past,  with  a  small  party 
from  St.  I,ouis,  up  the  banks  of  the  Missouri, 
and  along  the  frontier  line  of  agencies  and 
missions,  that  extends  from  the  Missouri  to  the 
Arkansas.  Our  party  was  headed  by  one  of 
the  Commissioners  appointed  by  the  govern 
ment  of  the  United  States  to  superintend  the 
settlement  of  the  Indian  tribes  migrating  from 
the  east  to  the  west  of  the  Mississippi.  In  the 
discharge  of  his  duties,  he  was  thus  visiting 
the  various  outposts  of  civilization. 

And  here  let  me  bear  testimony  to  the  merits 


dragon 


of  this  worthy  leader  of  our  little  band.  He 
was  a  native  of  one  of  the  towns  of  Connecticut, 
a  man  in  whom  a  course  of  legal  practice  and 
political  life  had  not  been  able  to  vitiate  an 
innate  simplicity  and  benevolence  of  heart. 
The  greater  part  of  his  days  had  been  passed 
in  the  bosom  of  his  family  and  the  society  of 
deacons,  elders,  and  selectmen,  on  the  peaceful 
banks  of  the  Connecticut  ;  when  suddenly  he 
had  been  called  to  mount  his  steed,  shoulder 
his  rifle,  and  mingle  among  stark  hunters, 
backwoodsmen,  and  naked  savages,  on  the 
trackless  wilds  of  the  Far  West. 

Another  of  my  fellow-travellers  was  Mr.  I,., 
an  Englishman  by  birth,  but  descended  from  a 
foreign  stock  ;  and  who  had  all  the  buoyancy 
and  accommodating  spirit  of  the  native  of  the 
Continent.  Having  rambled  over  many  coun 
tries,  he  had  become,  to  a  certain  degree,  a 
citizen  of  the  world,  easily  adapting  himself  to 
any  change.  He  was  a  man  of  a  thousand 
occupations  ;  a  botanist,  a  geologist,  a  hunter 
of  beetles  and  butterflies,  a  musical  amateur,  a 
sketcherof  no  mean  pretensions,  in  short,  a  com 
plete  virtuoso  ;  added  to  which,  he  was  a  very 
indefatigable,  if  not  always  a  very  successful, 
sportsman.  Never  had  a  man  more  irons  in 
the  fire,  and,  consequently,  never  was  man  more 
busy  nor  more  cheerful. 


a  ZTour  on  tbe  jpraitfes  5 

My  third  fellow-traveller  was  one  who  had 
accompanied  the  former  from  Kurope,  and 
travelled  with  him  as  his  Telemachus  ;  being 
apt,  like  his  prototype,  to  give  occasional  per 
plexity  and  disquiet  to  his  Mentor.  He  was  a 
young  Swiss  count,  scarce  twenty-one  years 
of  age,  full  of  talent  and  spirit,  but  galliard  in 
the  extreme,  and  prone  to  every  kind  of  wild 
adventure. 

Having  made  this  mention  of  my  comrades, 
I  must  not  pass  over  unnoticed  a  personage  of 
inferior  rank,  but  of  all-pervading  and  preva 
lent  importance, — the  squire,  the  groom,  the 
cook,  the  tent-man,  in  a  word,  the  factotum, 
and,  I  may  add,  the  universal  meddler  and  mar 
plot  of  our  party.  This  was  a  little,  swarthy, 
meagre,  French  Creole,  named  Antoine,  but 
familiarly  dubbed  Tonish, — a  kind  of  Gil  Bias 
of  the  frontiers,  who  had  passed  a  scrambling 
life,  sometimes  among  white  men,  sometimes 
among  Indians ;  sometimes  in  the  employ  of 
traders,  missionaries,  and  Indian  agents ; 
sometimes  mingling  with  the  Osage  hunters. 
We  picked  him  up  at  St  I/ouis,  near  which  he 
has  a  small  farm,  an  Indian  wife,  and  a  brood 
of  half-blood  children.  According  to  his  own 
account,  however,  he  had  a  wife  in  every  tribe ; 
in  fact,  if  all  this  little  vagabond  said  of  him 
self  were  to  be  believed,  he  was  without  morals, 


Crayon 


without  caste,  without  creed,  without  country, 
and  even  without  language  ;  for  he  spoke  a 
jargon  of  mingled  French,  English,  and  Osage. 
He  was,  withal,  a  notorious  braggart,  and  a 
liar  of  the  first  water.  It  was  amusing  to  hear 
him  vapor  and  gasconade  about  his  terrible 
exploits  and  hair-breadth  escapes  in  war  and 
hunting.  In  the  midst  of  his  volubility  he 
was  prone  to  be  seized  by  a  spasmodic  gasping, 
as  if  the  springs  of  his  jaws  were  suddenly  un 
hinged  ;  but  I  am  apt  to  think  it  was  caused 
by  some  falsehood  that  stuck  in  his  throat,  for 
I  generally  remarked  that  immediately  after 
wards  there  bolted  forth  a  lie  of  the  first  magni 
tude. 

Our  route  had  been  a  pleasant  one,  quarter 
ing  ourselves,  occasionally,  at  the  widely 
separated  establishments  of  the  Indian  mis 
sionaries,  but  in  general  camping  out  in  fine 
groves  that  border  the  streams,  and  sleeping 
under  cover  of  a  tent.  During  the  latter  part 
of  our  tour  we  had  pressed  forward  in  hopes  of 
arriving  in  time  at  Fort  Gibson,  to  accompany 
the  Osage  hunters  on  their  autumnal  visit  to 
the  buffalo  prairies.  Indeed,  the  imagination 
of  the  young  Count  had  become  completely 
excited  on  the  subject.  The  grand  scenery 
and  wild  habits  of  the  prairies  had  set  his 
spirits  madding,  and  the  stories  that  little 


B  trout  on  tbe  pratrfee  7 

Tomsk  told  him  of  Indian  braves  and  Indian 
beauties,  of  hunting  buffaloes  and  catching 
wild  horses,  had  set  him  all  agog  for  a  dash 
into  savage  life.  He  was  a  bold  and  hard  rider, 
and  longed  to  be  scouring  the  hunting  grounds. 
It  was  amusing  to  hear  his  youthful  anticipa 
tions  of  all  that  he  was  to  see,  and  do,  and 
enjoy,  when  mingling  among  the  Indians  and 
participating  in  their  hardy  adventures;  and 
it  was  still  more  amusing  to  listen  to  the  gas- 
conadings  of  little  Tonish,  who  volunteered  to 
be  his  faithful  squire  in  all  his  perilous  under 
takings  ;  to  teach  him  how  to  catch  the  wild 
horse,  bring  down  the  buffalo,  and  win  the 
smiles  of  Indian  princesses  ; — "  And  if  we  can 
only  get  sight  of  a  prairie  on  fire  ! ' '  said  the 
young  Count.  "  By  Gar,  I  '11  set  one  on  fire 
myself ! ' '  cried  the  little  Frenchman. 


Gbapter  TIT, 

Anticipations  Disappointed— New  Plans— Prepara 
tions  to  Join  an  Exploring  Party — Departure  from 
Fort  Gibson — Fording  of  the  Verdigris — An  Indian 
Cavalier. 

THK  anticipations  of  a  young  man  are 
prone  to  meet  with  disappointment. 
Unfortunately  for  the  Count's  scheme 
of  wild  campaigning,  before  we  reached  the 
end  of  our  journey,  we  heard  that  the  Osage 
hunters  had  set  forth  upon  their  expedition  to 
the  buffalo  grounds.  The  Count  still  deter 
mined,  if  possible,  to  follow  on  their  track  and 
overtake  them,  and  for  this  purpose  stopped 
short  at  the  Osage  Agency,  a  few  miles  distant 
from  Fort  Gibson,  to  make  inquiries  and  prep 
arations.  His  travelling  companion,  Mr.  I,., 
stopped  with  him ;  while  the  Commissioner 
and  myself  proceeded  to  Fort  Gibson,  followed 
by  the  faithful  and  veracious  Tonish.  I  hinted 
to  him  his  promises  to  follow  the  Count  in  his 
8 


a  trout  on  tbe  prairies  9 

campaignings,  but  I  found  the  little  varlet  had 
a  keen  eye  to  self-interest.  He  was  aware  that 
the  Commissioner,  from  his  official  duties, 
would  remain  for  a  long  time  in  the  country, 
and  be  likely  to  give  him  permanent  employ 
ment,  while  the  sojourn  of  the  Count  would 
be  but  transient.  The  gasconading  of  the 
little  braggart  was  suddenly  therefore  at  an 
end.  He  spoke  not  another  word  to  the  young 
Count  about  Indians,  buffaloes,  and  wild 
horses,  but  putting  himself  tacitly  in  the  train 
of  the  Commissioner,  jogged  silently  after  us 
to  the  garrison. 

On  arriving  at  the  fort,  however,  a  new 
chance  presented  itself  for  a  cruise  on  the 
prairies.  We  learnt  that  a  company  of  mounted 
rangers,  or  riflemen,  had  departed  but  three 
days  previous,  to  make  a  wide  exploring  tour, 
from  the  Arkansas  to  the  Red  River,  including 
a  part  of  the  Pawnee  hunting  grounds,  where 
no  party  of  white  men  had  as  yet  penetrated. 
Here,  then,  was  an  opportunity  of  ranging 
over  those  dangerous  and  interesting  regions 
under  the  safeguard  of  a  powerful  escort ;  for 
the  Commissioner,  in  virtue  of  his  office,  could 
claim  the  service  of  this  newly  raised  corps  of 
riflemen,  and  the  country  they  were  to  explore 
was  destined  for  the  settlement  of  some  of  the 
migrating  tribes  connected  with  his  mission. 


io  Crayon 


Our  plan  was  promptly  formed  and  put  into 
execution.  A  couple  of  Creek  Indians  were 
sent  off  express,  by  the  commander  of  Fort 
Gibson,  to  overtake  trie  rangers  and  bring 
them  to  a  halt  until  the  Commissioner  and  his 
party  should  be  able  to  join  them.  As  we 
should  have  a  march  of  three  or  four  days 
through  a  wild  country,  before  we  could  over 
take  the  company  of  rangers,  an  escort  of 
fourteen  mounted  riflemen,  under  the  command 
of  a  lieutenant  was  assigned  us. 

We  sent  word  to  the  young  Count  and  Mr. 
L.  at  the  Osage  Agency,  of  our  new  plan  and 
prospects,  and  invited  them  to  accompany  us. 
The  Count,  however,  could  not  forego  the 
delights  he  had  promised  himself  in  mingling 
with  absolutely  savage  life.  In  reply,  he  agreed 
to  keep  with  us  until  we  should  come  upon  the 
trail  of  the  Osage  hunters,  when  it  was  his  fixed 
resolve  to  strike  off  into  the  wilderness  in  pur 
suit  of  them  ;  and  his  faithful  Mentor,  though 
he  grieved  at  the  madness  of  the  scheme,  was 
too  stanch  a  friend  to  desert  him.  A  general 
rendezvous  of  our  party  and  escort  was  ap 
pointed  for  the  following  morning,  at  the 
Agency. 

We  now  made  all  arrangements  for  prompt 
departure.  Our  baggage  had  hitherto  been 
transported  on  a  light  wagon,  but  we  were 


B  <Touc  on  tbe  prairies  n 

now  to  break  our  way  through  an  untravelled 
country,  cut  up  by  rivers,  ravines,  and  thickets, 
where  a  vehicle  of  the  kind  would  be  a  complete 
impediment.  We  were  to  travel  on  horseback, 
in  hunter's  style,  and  with  as  little  encumbrance 
as  possible.  Our  baggage,  therefore,  under 
went  a  rigid  and  most  abstemious  reduction. 
A  pair  of  saddle-bags,  and  those  by  no  means 
crammed,  sufficed  for  each  man's  scanty  ward 
robe,  and,  with  his  great-coat,  were  to  be 
carried  upon  the  steed  he  rode.  The  rest  of 
the  baggage  was  placed  on  pack-horses.  Bach 
one  had  a  bear-skin  and  a  couple  of  blankets 
for  bedding,  and  there  was  a  tent  to  shelter  us 
in  case  of  sickness  or  bad  weather.  We  took 
care  to  provide  ourselves  with  flour,  coffee,  and 
sugar,  together  with  a  small  supply  of  salt 
pork  for  emergencies  ;  for  our  main  subsistence 
we  were  to  depend  upon  the  chase. 

Such  of  our  horses  as  had  not  been  tired  out 
in  our  recent  journey,  were  taken  with  us  as 
pack-horses,  or  supernumeraries ;  but  as  we 
were  going  on  a  long  and  rough  tour,  where 
there  would  be  occasional  hunting,  and  where, 
in  case  of  meeting  with  hostile  savages,  the 
safety  of  the  rider  might  depend  upon  the 
goodness  of  his  steed,  we  took  care  to  be  well 
mounted.  I  procured  a  stout  silver-gray  ; 
somewhat  rough,  but  stanch  and  powerful ; 


12  Craven  dbtecellang 


and  retained  a  hardy  pony  which  I  had  hitherto 
ridden,  and  which,  being  somewhat  jaded,  was 
suffered  to  ramble  along  with  the  pack-horses, 
to  be  mounted  in  case  of  emergency. 

All  these  arrangements  being  made,  we  left 
Fort  Gibson  on  the  morning  of  the  tenth  of 
October,  and  crossing  the  river  in  the  front  of 
it,  set  off  for  the  rendezvous  at  the  Agency. 
A  ride  of  a  few  miles  brought  us  to  the  ford  of 
the  Verdigris,  a  wild  rocky  scene  overhung 
with  forest  trees.  We  descended  to  the  bank 
of  the  river  and  crossed  in  straggling  file,  the 
horses  stepping  cautiously  from  rock  to  rock, 
and  in  a  manner  feeling  about  for  a  foothold 
beneath  the  rushing  and  brawling  stream. 

Our  little  Frenchman,  Tonish,  brought  up 
the  rear  with  the  pack-horses.  He  was  in  high 
glee,  having  experienced  a  kind  of  promotion. 
In  our  journey  hitherto  he  had  driven  the 
wagon,  which  he  seemed  to  consider  a  very 
inferior  employ  ;  now  he  was  master  of  the 
horse. 

He  sat  perched  like  a  monkey  behind  the 
pack  on  one  of  the  horses ;  he  sang,  he  shouted, 
he  yelped  like  an  Indian,  and  ever  and  anon 
blasphemed  the  loitering  pack-horses  in  his 
jargon  of  mingled  French,  Knglish,  and  Osage, 
which  not  one  of  them  could  understand. 

As  we  were  crossing  the  ford  we  saw  on  the 


B  tTour  on  tbe  prairies  13 

opposite  shore  a  Creek  Indian  on  horseback. 
He  had  paused  to  reconnoitre  us  from  the  brow 
of  a  rock,  and  formed  a  picturesque  object,  in 
unison  with  the  wild  scenery  around  him.  He 
wore  a  bright  blue  hunting  shirt  trimmed  with 
scarlet  fringe  ;  a  gayly  colored  handkerchief 
was  bound  round  his  head  something  like  a 
turban,  with  one  end  hanging  down  beside  his 
ear ;  he  held  a  long  rifle  in  his  hand,  and 
looked  like  a  wild  Arab  on  the  prowl.  Our 
loquacious  and  ever-meddling  little  French 
man  called  out  to  him  in  his  Babylonish  jargon, 
but  the  savage,  having  satisfied  his  curiosity, 
tossed  his  hand  in  the  air,  turned  the  head  of 
his  steed,  and  galloping  along  the  shore  soon 
disappeared  among  the  trees. 


Gbapter  iff  . 

An   Indian   Agency — Riflemen — Osages,    Creeks 

Trappers,  Dogs,  Horses,  Half-breeds — Beatte, 

the  Huntsman. 

HAVING  crossed  the  ford,  we  soon  reached 
the  Osage  Agency  where  Col.  Choteau 
has  his  offices  and  magazines,  for  the 
despatch  of  Indian  affairs,  and  the  distribution 
of  presents  and  supplies.  It  consisted  of  a  few 
log  houses  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  pre 
sented  a  motley  frontier  scene.  Here  was  our 
escort  awaiting  our  arrival ;  some  were  on 
horseback,  some  on  foot,  some  seated  on  the 
trunks  of  fallen  trees,  some  shooting  at  a  mark. 
They  were  a  heterogeneous  crew :  some  in 
frock-coats  made  of  green  blankets  ;  others  in 
leathern  hunting  shirts,  but  the  most  part  in 
marvellously  ill-cut  garments,  much  the  worse 
for  wear,  and  evidently  put  on  for  rugged 
service. 

Near  by  these  was  a  group  of  Osages — stately 
14 


£011  r  on  tbe  prairies  15 


fellows  ;  stern  and  simple  in  garb  and  aspect. 
They  wore  no  ornaments  ;  their  dress  consisted 
merely  of  blankets,  leggins,  and  moccasins. 
Their  heads  were  bare  ;  their  hair  was  cropped 
close,  excepting  a  bristling  ridge  on  the  top, 
like  the  crest  of  a  helmet,  with  a  long  scalp- 
lock  hanging  behind.  They  had  fine  Roman 
countenances,  and  broad  deep  chests  ;  and,  as 
they  generally  wore  their  blankets  wrapped 
round  their  loins,  so  as  to  leave  the  bust  and 
arms  bare,  they  looked  like  so  many  noble 
bronze  figures.  The  Osages  are  the  finest 
looking  Indians  I  have  ever  seen  in  the  West. 
They  have  not  yielded  sufficiently  as  yet  to 
the  influence  of  civilization  to  lay  by  their 
simple  Indian  garb,  or  to  lose  the  habits  of 
the  hunter  and  the  warrior  ;  and  their  poverty 
prevents  their  indulging  in  much  luxury  of 
apparel. 

In  contrast  to  these  was  a  gayly  dressed 
party  of  Creeks.  There  is  something,  at  the 
first  glance,  quite  Oriental,  in  the  appearance 
of  this  tribe.  They  dress  in  calico  hunting 
shirts,  of  various  brilliant  colors,  decorated 
with  bright  fringes,  and  belted  with  broad  gir 
dles,  embroidered  with  beads  ;  they  have  leg- 
gins  of  dressed  deer-skins,  or  of  green  or  scarlet 
cloth,  with  embroidered  knee-bands  and  tas 
sels  ;  their  moccasins  are  fancifully  wrought 


16  Crayon 


and  ornamented,  and  they  wear  gaudy  hand 
kerchiefs  tastefully  bound  round  their  heads. 

Besides  these,  there  was  a  sprinkling  of 
trappers,  hunters,  half-breeds,  Creoles,  negroes 
of  every  hue  ;  and  all  that  other  rabble  rout  of 
nondescript  beings  that  keep  about  the  fron 
tiers,  between  civilized  and  savage  life,  as  those 
equivocal  birds,  the  bats,  hover  about  the  con 
fines  of  light  and  darkness. 

The  little  hamlet  of  the  Agency  was  in  a 
complete  bustle  ;  the  blacksmith's  shed,  in 
particular,  was  a  scene  of  preparation  ;  a  strap 
ping  negro  was  shoeing  a  horse  ;  two  half- 
breeds  were  fabricating  iron  spoons  in  which 
to  melt  lead  for  bullets.  An  old  trapper,  in 
leathern  hunting  frock  and  moccasins,  had 
placed  his  rifle  against  a  work-bench,  while 
he  superintended  the  operation,  and  gossiped 
about  his  hunting  exploits ;  several  large  dogs 
were  lounging  in  and  out  of  the  shop,  or  sleep 
ing  in  the  sunshine,  while  a  little  cur,  with 
head  cocked  on  one  side,  and  one  ear  erect, 
was  watching,  with  that  curiosity  common  to 
little  dogs,  the  process  of  shoeing  the  horse, 
as  if  studying  the  art,  or  waiting  for  his  turn 
to  be  shod. 

We  found  the  Count  and  his  companion,  the 
Virtuoso,  ready  for  the  march.  As  they  in 
tended  to  overtake  the  Osages,  and  pass  some 


B  Gout;  on  tbe  prattles  17 

time  in  hunting  the  buffalo  and  the  wild  horse, 
they  had  provided  themselves  accordingly  ; 
having,  in  addition  to  the  steeds  which  they 
used  for  travelling,  others  of  prime  quality, 
which  were  to  be  led  when  on  the  march,  and 
only  to  be  mounted  for  the  chase. 

They  had,  moreover,  engaged  the  services 
of  a  young  man  named  Antoine,  a  half-breed 
of  French  and  Osage  origin.  He  was  to  be  a 
kind  of  Jack-of-all-work ;  to  cook,  to  hunt, 
and  to  take  care  of  the  horses  ;  but  he  had  a 
vehement  propensity  to  do  nothing,  being  one 
of  the  worthless  brood  engendered  and  brought 
up  among  the  missions.  He  was,  moreover, 
a  little  spoiled  by  being  really  a  handsome 
young  fellow,  an  Adonis  of  the  frontier,  and 
still  worse  by  fancying  himself  highly  con 
nected,  his  sister  being  concubine  to  an  opulent 
white  trader  ! 

For  our  own  parts,  the  Commissioner  and 
myself  were  desirous,  before  setting  out,  to 
procure  another  attendant  well  versed  in  wood 
craft,  who  might  serve  us  as  a  hunter :  for  our 
little  Frenchman  would  have  his  hands  full 
when  in  camp,  in  cooking,  and  on  the  march, 
in  taking  care  of  the  pack-horses.  Such  a  one 
presented  himself,  or  rather  was  recommended 
to  us,  in  Pierre  Beatte,  a  half-breed  of  French 
and  Osage  parentage.  We  were  assured  that 

VOL.  I.— 2 


is  dragon  flbiscellmy 


he  was  acquainted  with  all  parts  of  the  country, 
having  traversed  it  in  all  directions,  both  in 
hunting  and  war  parties ;  that  he  would  be 
of  use  both  as  guide  and  interpreter,  and  that 
he  was  a  first-rate  hunter. 

I  confess  I  did  not  like  his  looks  when  he 
was  first  presented  to  me.  He  was  lounging 
about,  in  an  old  hunting  frock  and  metasses, 
or  leggins,  of  deer-skin,  soiled  and  greased, 
and  almost  japanned  by  constant  use.  He 
was  apparently  about  thirty-six  years  of  age, 
square  and  strongly  built.  His  features  were 
not  bad,  being  shaped  not  unlike  those  of 
Napoleon,  but  sharpened  up,  with  high  Indian 
cheek-bones.  Perhaps  the  dusky  greenish  hue 
of  his  complexion  aided  his  resemblance  to  an 
old  bronze  bust  I  had  seen  of  the  Emperor. 
He  had,  however,  a  sullen,  saturnine  expres 
sion,  set  off  by  a  slouched  woollen  hat,  and 
elf-locks  that  hung  about  his  ears. 

Such  was  the  appearance  of  the  man,  and 
his  manners  were  equally  unprepossessing.  He 
was  cold  and  laconic ;  made  no  promises  or 
professions  ;  stated  the  terms  he  required  for 
the  services  of  himself  and  his  horse,  which 
we  thought  rather  high,  but  showed  no  dis 
position  to  abate  them,  nor  any  anxiety  to 
secure  our  employ.  He  had  altogether  more 
of  the  red  than  the  white  man  in  his  composi- 


ftour  on  tbe  prairies  19 


tion  ;  and,  as  I  had  been  taught  to  look  upon 
all  half-breeds  with  distrust,  as  an  uncertain 
and  faithless  race,  I  would  gladly  have  dis 
pensed  with  the  services  of  Pierre  Beatte.  We 
had  no  time,  however,  to  look  out  for  any  one 
more  to  our  taste,  and  had  to  make  an  arrange 
ment  with  him  on  the  spot.  He  then  set  about 
making  his  preparations  for  the  journey, 
promising  to  join  us  at  our  evening's  en 
campment. 

One  thing  was  yet  wanting  to  fit  me  out  for 
the  prairies  —  a  thoroughly  trustworthy  steed  ; 
I  was  not  yet  mounted  to  my  mind.  The 
gray  I  had  bought,  though  strong  and  service 
able,  was  rough.  At  the  last  moment  I  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  an  excellent  animal  :  a  dark 
bay,  powerful,  active,  generous  spirited,  and 
in  capital  condition.  I  mounted  him  with 
exultation,  and  transferred  the  silver-gray  to 
Tonish,  who  was  in  such  ecstasies  at  finding 
himself  so  completely  en  cavalier,  that  I  feared 
he  might  realize  the  ancient  and  well-known 
proverb  of  "  a  beggar  on  horseback." 


Cbaptet  HIP* 

The  Departure. 

THE  long-drawn  notes  of  a  bugle  at  length 
gave  the  signal  for  departure.  The 
rangers  filed  off  in  a  straggling  line  of 
march  through  the  woods :  we  were  soon  on 
horseback  and  following  on,  but  were  detained 
by  the  irregularity  of  the  pack-horses.  They 
were  unaccustomed  to  keep  the  line,  and 
straggled  from  side  to  side  among  the  thickets, 
in  spite  of  all  the  pesting  and  bedeviling  of 
Tonish ;  who,  mounted  on  his  gallant  gray, 
with  a  long  rifle  on  his  shoulder,  worried  af 
ter  them,  bestowing  a  superabundance  of  dry 
blows  and  curses. 

We  soon,  therefore,  lost  sight  of  our  escort, 
but  managed  to  keep  on  their  track,  threading 
lofty  forests,  and  entangled  thickets,  and  pass 
ing  by  Indian  wigwams  and  negro  huts,  until 
towards  dusk  we  arrived  at  a  frontier  farm 
house,  owned  by  a  settler  of  the  name  of 
20 


Sour  on  tbe  prairies  21 


Berryhill.  It  was  situated  on  a  hill,  below 
which  the  rangers  had  encamped  in  a  circular 
grove,  on  the  margin  of  a  stream.  The  master 
of  the  house  received  us  civilly,  but  could  offer 
us  no  accommodation,  for  sickness  prevailed  in 
his  family.  He  appeared  himself  to  be  in  no 
very  thriving  condition,  for  though  bulky  in 
frame,  he  had  a  sallow,  unhealthy  complexion, 
and  a  whiffling  double  voice,  shifting  abruptly 
from  a  treble  to  a  thorough-bass. 

Finding  his  log  house  was  a  mere  hospital, 
crowded  with  invalids,  we  ordered  our  tent  to 
be  pitched  in  the  farm-yard. 

We  had  not  been  long  encamped,  when  our 
recently  engaged  attendant,  Beatte,  the  Osage 
half-breed,  made  his  appearance.  He  came 
mounted  on  one  horse  and  leading  another, 
which  seemed  to  be  well  packed  with  supplies 
for  the  expedition.  Beatte  was  evidently  an 
"  old  soldier,"  as  to  the  art  of  taking  care  of 
himself  and  looking  out  for  emergencies. 
Finding  that  he  was  in  government  employ, 
being  engaged  by  the  Commissioner,  he  had 
drawn  rations  of  flour  and  bacon,  and  put  them 
up  so  as  to  be  weather-proof.  In  addition  to 
the  horse  for  the  road  and  for  ordinary  ser 
vice,  which  was  a  rough,  hardy  animal,  he  had 
another  for  hunting.  This  was  of  a  mixed 
breed  like  himself,  being  a  cross  of  the  domes- 


22  dragon 


tic  stock  with  the  wild  horse  of  the  prairies  ; 
and  a  noble  steed  it  was,  of  generous  spirit, 
fine  action,  and  admirable  bottom.  He  had 
taken  care  to  have  his  horses  well  shod  at  the 
Agency.  He  came  prepared  at  all  points  for 
war  or  hunting  :  his  rifle  on  his  shoulder,  his 
powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch  at  his  side,  his 
hunting  knife  stuck  in  his  belt,  and  coils  of 
cordage  at  his  saddle-bow,  which  we  were  told 
were  lariats,  or  noosed  cords,  used  in  catching 
the  wild  horse. 

Thus  equipped  and  provided,  an  Indian 
hunter  on  a  prairie  is  like  a  cruiser  on  the 
ocean,  perfectly  independent  of  the  world,  and 
competent  to  self-protection  and  self-mainte 
nance.  He  can  cast  himself  loose  from  every 
one,  shape  his  own  course,  and  take  care  of 
his  own  fortunes.  I  thought  Beatte  seemed  to 
feel  his  independence,  and  to  consider  himself 
superior  to  us  all,  now  that  we  were  launching 
into  the  wilderness.  He  maintained  a  half 
proud,  half  sullen  look,  and  great  taciturnity  ; 
and  his  first  care  was  to  unpack  his  horses  and 
put  them  in  safe  quarters  for  the  night.  His 
whole  demeanor  was  in  perfect  contrast  to  our 
vaporing,  chattering,  bustling  little  French 
man.  The  latter,  too,  seemed  jealous  of  this 
new-comer.  He  whispered  to  us  that  these 
half-breeds  were  a  touchy,  capricious  people, 


B  Gcmr  on  tbe  prairies 


little  to  be  depended  upon  ;  that  Beatte  had  evi 
dently  come  prepared  to  take  care  of  himself, 
and  that,  at  any  moment  in  the  course  of  our 
tour,  he  would  be  liable  to  take  some  sudden 
disgust  or  affront,  and  abandon  us  at  a  mo 
ment's  warning — having  the  means  of  shifting 
for  himself,  and  being  perfectly  at  home  on  the 
prairies. 


Cbapter  ID. 

Frontier  Scenes— A  Lycurgus  of  the  Border— Lynch's 

Law — The  Danger  of  Finding  a  Horse — 

The  Young  Osage. 

ON  the  following  morning  (Oct.  i)  we 
were  on  the  march  by  half-past  seven 
o'clock,  and  rode  through  deep  rich 
bottoms  of  alluvial  soil,  overgrown  with  re 
dundant  vegetation,  and  trees  of  an  enormous 
size.     Our  route  lay  parallel  to  the  west  bank 
of  the  Arkansas,  on  the  borders  of  which  river, 
near  the  confluence  of  the  Red  Fork,  we  ex 
pected  to  overtake  the  main  body  of  rangers. 
For  some  miles  the  country  was  sprinkled  with 
Creek  villages  and  farm-houses  ;  the  inhabi 
tants  of  which  appeared  to  have  adopted,  with 
considerable  facility,  the  rudiments  of  civiliza 
tion,   and    to    have    thriven  in  consequence. 
Their  farms  were  well  stocked,  and  their  houses 
had  a  look  of  comfort  and  abundance. 
We  met  with  numbers  of  them  returning 
24 


Gout  on  tbe  prairies  25 


from  one  of  their  grand  games  of  ball,  for  which 
their  nation  is  celebrated.  Some  were  on  foot, 
some  on  horseback  ;  the  latter,  occasionally, 
with  gayly  dressed  females  behind  them.  They 
are  a  well-made  race,  muscular  and  closely  knit, 
with  well-turned  thighs  and  legs.  They  have 
a  gypsy  fondness  for  brilliant  colors  and  gay 
decorations,  and  are  bright  and  fanciful  objects 
when  seen  at  a  distance  on  the  prairies.  One 
had  a  scarlet  handkerchief  bound  round  his 
head,  surmounted  with  a  tuft  of  black  feathers 
like  a  cock's  tail  ;  another  had  a  white  hand 
kerchief,  with  red  feathers  ;  while  a  third,  for 
want  of  a  plume,  had  stuck  in  his  turban  a 
brilliant  bunch  of  sumach. 

On  the  verge  of  the  wilderness  we  paused  to 
inquire  our  way  at  a  log  house  owned  by  a 
white  settler  or  squatter  ;  a  tall,  rawboned  old 
fellow,  with  red  hair,  a  lank  lantern  visage, 
and  an  inveterate  habit  of  winking  with  one 
eye,  as  if  everything  he  said  was  of  knowing 
import.  He  was  in  a  towering  passion.  One 
of  his  horses  was  missing  ;  he  was  sure  it  had 
been  stolen  in  the  night  by  a  straggling  party 
of  Osages  encamped  in  a  neighboring  swamp  ; 
but  he  would  have  satisfaction  !  He  would 
make  an  example  of  the  villains.  He  had 
accordingly  caught  down  his  rifle  from  the 
wall,  that  invariable  enforcer  of  right  or  wrong 


26  Crayon  /HMscellanE 


upon  the  frontiers,  and,  having  saddled  his 
steed,  was  about  to  sally  forth  on  a  foray  into 
the  swamp  ;  while  a  brother  squatter,  with 
rifle  in  hand,  stood  ready  to  accompany  him. 

We  endeavored  to  calm  the  old  campaigner 
of  the  prairies,  by  suggesting  that  his  horse 
might  have  strayed  into  the  neighboring 
woods  ;  but  he  had  the  frontier  propensity  to 
charge  everything  to  the  Indians,  and  nothing 
could  dissuade  him  from  carrying  fire  and 
sword  into  the  swamp. 

After  riding  a  few  miles  farther,  we  lost  the 
trail  of  the  main  body  of  rangers,  and  became 
perplexed  by  a  variety  of  tracks  made  by  the 
Indians  and  settlers.  At  length,  coming  to  a 
log  house  inhabited  by  a  white  man,  the  very 
last  on  the  frontier,  we  found  that  we  had 
wandered  from  our  true  course.  Taking  us 
back  for  some  distance,  he  again  brought  us  to 
the  right  trail  ;  putting  ourselves  upon  which, 
we  took  our  final  departure,  and  launched  into 
the  broad  wilderness. 

The  trail  kept  on  like  a  straggling  footpath, 
over  hill  and  dale,  through  brush  and  brake, 
and  tangled  thicket,  and  open  prairie.  In 
traversing  the  wilds,  it  is  customary  for  a 
party,  either  of  horse  or  foot,  to  follow  each 
other  in  single  file  like  the  Indians  ;  so  that 
the  leaders  break  the  way  for  those  who  follow, 


B  Gour  on  tbe  prairies  27 

and  lessen  their  labor  and  fatigue.  In  this 
way,  also,  the  number  of  a  party  is  concealed, 
the  whole  leaving  but  one  narrow  well-trampled 
track  to  mark  their  course. 

We  had  not  long  regained  the  trail,  when, 
on  emerging  from  a  forest,  we  beheld  our  raw- 
boned,  hard- winking,  hard-riding  knight-errant 
of  the  frontier,  descending  the  slope  of  a  hill, 
followed  by  his  companion  in  arms.  As  he 
drew  near  to  us,  the  gauntness  of  his  figure 
and  ruefulness  of  his  aspect  reminded  me  of  the 
description  of  the  hero  of  I^a  Mancha,  and  he 
was  equally  bent  on  affairs  of  doughty  enter 
prise,  being  about  to  penetrate  the  thickets  of 
the  perilous  swamp,  within  which  the  enemy 
lay  ensconced. 

While  we  were  holding  a  parley  with  him  on 
the  slope  of  the  hill,  we  descried  an  Osage  on 
horseback  issuing  out  of  a  skirt  of  wood  about 
half  a  mile  off,  and  leading  a  horse  by  a  halter. 
The  latter  was  immediately  recognized  by  our 
hard-winking  friend  as  the  steed  of  which  he 
was  in  quest.  As  the  Osage  drew  near,  I  was 
struck  with  his  appearance.  He  was  about 
nineteen  or  twenty  years  of  age,  but  well 
grown,  with  the  fine  Roman  countenance  com 
mon  to  his  tribe ;  and  as  he  rode,  with  his 
blanket  wrapped  round  his  loins,  his  naked 
bust  would  have  furnished  a  model  for  a  statu- 


28  Crayon 


ary.  He  was  mounted  on  a  beautiful  piebald 
horse,  a  mottled  white  and  brown,  of  the  wild 
breed  of  the  prairies,  decorated  with  a  broad 
collar,  from  which  hung  in  front  a  tuft  of  horse 
hair  dyed  of  a  bright  scarlet. 

The  youth  rode  slowly  up  to  us  with  a  frank 
open  air,  and  signified  by  means  of  our  inter 
preter  Beatte,  that  the  horse  he  was  leading 
had  wandered  to  their  camp,  and  he  was  now 
on  his  way  to  conduct  him  back  to  his  owner. 

I  had  expected  to  witness  an  expression  of 
gratitude  on  the  part  of  our  hard-favored  cava 
lier,  but  to  my  surprise  the  old  fellow  broke 
out  into  a  furious  passion.  He  declared  that 
the  Indians  had  carried  off  his  horse  in  the 
night,  with  the  intention  of  bringing  him  home 
in  the  morning,  and  claiming  a  reward  for 
finding  him  ;  a  common  practice,  as  he  affirmed, 
among  the  Indians.  He  was,  therefore,  for  ty 
ing  the  young  Indian  to  a  tree  and  giving  him 
a  sound  lashing;  and  was  quite  surprised  at 
the  burst  of  indignation  which  this  novel  mode 
of  requiting  a  service  drew  from  us.  Such, 
however,  is  too  often  the  administration  of  law 
on  the  frontier,  "L,ynch's  law,"  as  it  is  tech 
nically  termed,  in  which  the  plaintiff  is  apt  to 
be  witness,  jury,  judge,  and  executioner,  and 
the  defendant  to  be  convicted  and  punished  on 
mere  presumption  ;  and  in  this  way,  I  am 


ZTouc  on  tbe  prairies  29 


convinced,  are  occasioned  many  of  those  heart 
burnings  and  resentments  among  the  Indians, 
which  lead  to  retaliation,  and  end  in  Indian 
wars.  When  I  compared  the  open,  noble 
countenance  and  frank  demeanor  of  the  young 
Osage  with  the  sinister  visage  and  high-handed 
conduct  of  the  frontiersman,  I  felt  little  doubt 
on  whose  back  a  lash  would  be  most  meritori 
ously  bestowed. 

Being  thus  obliged  to  content  himself  with 
the  recovery  of  his  horse,  without  the  pleasure 
of  flogging  the  finder  into  the  bargain,  the  old 
Lycurgus,  or  rather  Draco,  of  the  frontier,  set 
off  growling  on  his  return  homeward,  followed 
by  his  brother  squatter. 

As  for  the  youthful  Osage,  we  were  all  pre 
possessed  in  his  favor  ;  the  young  Count  espe 
cially,  with  the  sympathies  proper  to  his  age 
and  incident  to  his  character,  had  taken  quite 
a  fancy  to  him.  Nothing  would  suit  but  he 
must  have  the  young  Osage  as  a  companion 
and  squire  in  his  expedition  into  the  wilder 
ness.  The  youth  was  easily  tempted,  and, 
with  the  prospect  of  a  safe  range  over  the 
buffalo  prairies,  and  the  promise  of  a  new 
blanket,  he  turned  his  bridle,  left  the  swamp 
and  the  encampment  of  his  friends  behind  him, 
and  set  off  to  follow  the  Count  in  his  wander 
ings  in  quest  of  the  Osage  hunters. 


30  dragon 


Such  is  the  glorious  independence  of  man  in 
a  savage  state.  This  youth,  with  his  rifle,  his 
blanket,  and  his  horse,  was  ready  at  a  mo 
ment's  warning  to  rove  the  world ;  he  carried 
all  his  worldly  effects  with  him,  and  in  the  ab 
sence  of  artificial  wants  possessed  the  great 
secret  of  personal  freedom.  We  of  society  are 
slaves,  not  so  much  to  others  as  to  ourselves ; 
our  superfluities  are  the  chains  that  bind  us, 
impeding  every  movement  of  our  bodies,  and 
thwarting  every  impulse  of  our  souls.  Such, 
at  least,  were  my  speculations  at  the  time, 
though  I  am  not  sure  but  that  they  took  their 
tone  from  the  enthusiasm  of  the  young  Count, 
who  seemed  more  enchanted  than  ever  with 
the  wild  chivalry  of  the  prairies,  and  talked  of 
putting  on  the  Indian  dress  and  adopting  the 
Indian  habits  during  the  time  he  hoped  to  pass 
with  the  Osages. 


Cbapter  m. 

Trail  of  the  Osage  Hunters — Departure  of  the  Count 
and  his  Party — A  Deserted  War-camp — A 
Vagrant  Dog — The  Encampment. 

IN  the  course  of  the  morning  the  trail  we 
were  pursuing  was  crossed  by  another, 
which  struck  off  through  the  forest  to  the 
west  in  a  direct  course  for  the  Arkansas  River. 
Beatte,  our  half-breed,  after  considering  it  for 
a  moment,  pronounced  it  the  trail  of  the  Osage 
hunters ;  and  that  it  must  lead  to  the  place 
where  they  had  forded  the  river  on  their  way 
to  the  hunting  grounds. 

Here  then  the  young  Count  and  his  compan 
ion  came  to  a  halt  and  prepared  to  take  leave 
of  us.  The  most  experienced  frontiersmen  in 
the  troop  remonstrated  on  the  hazard  of  the 
undertaking.  They  were  about  to  throw  them 
selves  loose  in  the  wilderness,  with  no  other 
guides,  guards,  or  attendants  than  a  young 
ignorant  half-breed,  and  a  still  younger  Indian. 
31 


32  Crayon  flM0ceUanB 


They  were  embarrassed  by  a  pack-horse  and 
two  led  horses,  with  which  they  would  have  to 
make  their  way  through  matted  forests,  and 
across  rivers  and  morasses.  The  Osages  and 
Pawnees  were  at  war,  and  they  might  fall  in 
with  some  warrior  party  of  the  latter,  who  are 
ferocious  foes  ;  besides,  their  small  number, 
and  their  valuable  horses  would  form  a  great 
temptation  to  some  of  the  straggling  bands  of 
Osages  loitering  about  the  frontier,  who  might 
rob  them  of  their  horses  in  the  night,  and 
leave  them  destitute  and  on  foot  in  the  midst 
of  the  prairies. 

Nothing,  however,  could  restrain  the  roman 
tic  ardor  of  the  Count  for  a  campaign  of  buf 
falo  hunting  with  the  Osages,  and  he  had  a 
game  spirit  that  seemed  always  stimulated  by 
the  idea  of  danger.  His  travelling  companion, 
of  discreeter  age  and  calmer  temperament,  was 
convinced  of  the  rashness  of  the  enterprise  ; 
but  he  could  not  control  the  impetuous  zeal  of 
his  youthful  friend,  and  he  was  too  loyal  to 
leave  him  to  pursue  his  hazardous  scheme 
alone.  To  our  great  regret,  therefore,  we  saw 
them  abandon  the  protection  of  our  escort,  and 
strike  off  on  their  hap-hazard  expedition.  The 
old  hunters  of  our  party  shook  their  heads, 
and  our  half-breed,  Beatte,  predicted  all  kinds 
of  trouble  to  them  ;  my  only  hope  was,  that 


(Tour  on  tbe  prairies  33 


they  would  soon  meet  with  perplexities  enough 
to  cool  the  impetuosity  of  the  young  Count, 
and  induce  him  to  rejoin  us.  With  this  idea 
we  travelled  slowly,  and  made  a  considerable 
halt  at  noon.  After  resuming  our  march,  we 
came  in  sight  of  the  Arkansas.  It  presented 
a  broad  and  rapid  stream,  bordered  by  a  beach 
of  fine  sand,  overgrown  with  willows  and 
cotton-  wood  trees.  Beyond  the  river,  the  eye 
wandered  over  a  beautiful  champaign  country, 
of  flowery  plains  and  sloping  uplands,  diversi 
fied  by  groves  and  clumps  of  trees,  and  long 
screens  of  wood  land  ;  the  whole  wearing  the 
aspect  of  complete,  and  even  ornamental  culti 
vation,  instead  of  native  wilderness.  Not  far 
from  the  river,  on  an  open  eminence,  we  passed 
through  the  recently  deserted  camping  place 
of  an  Osage  war-party.  The  frames  of  the 
tents  or  wigwams  remained,  consisting  of  poles 
bent  into  an  arch,  with  each  end  stuck  into 
the  ground  :  these  are  intertwined  with  twigs 
and  branches,  and  covered  with  bark  and  skins. 
Those  experienced  in  Indian  lore,  can  ascertain 
the  tribe,  and  whether  on  a  hunting  or  a  war 
like  expedition,  by  the  shape  and  disposition 
of  the  wigwams.  Beatte  pointed  out  to  us,  in 
the  present  skeleton  camp,  the  wigwam  in 
which  the  chiefs  had  held  their  consultations 
round  the  council-fire  ;  and  an  open  area,  well 

VOL.  I.—  3 


34  Crayon 


trampled  down,  on  which  the  grand  war-dance 
had  been  performed. 

Pursuing  our  journey,  as  we  were  passing 
through  a  forest,  we  were  met  by  a  forlorn, 
half-famished  dog,  who  came  rambling  along 
the  trail,  with  inflamed  eyes  and  bewildered 
look.  Though  nearly  trampled  upon  by  the 
foremost  rangers,  he  took  notice  of  no  one,  but 
rambled  heedlessly  among  the  horses.  The 
cry  of  '  *  mad  dog  ' '  was  immediately  raised, 
and  one  of  the  rangers  levelled  his  rifle, 
but  was  stayed  by  the  ever-ready  humanity  of 
the  Commissioner.  * '  He  is  blind  ! ' '  said  he. 
"  It  is  the  dog  of  some  poor  Indian,  following 
his  master  by  the  scent.  It  would  be  a  shame 
to  kill  so  faithful  an  animal."  The  ranger 
shouldered  his  rifle,  the  dog  blundered  blindly 
through  the  cavalcade  unhurt,  and  keeping  his 
nose  to  the  ground,  continued  his  course  along 
the  trail,  affording  a  rare  instance  of  a  dog 
surviving  a  bad  name. 

About  three  o'clock,  we  come  to  a  recent 
camping  place  of  the  company  of  rangers.  The 
brands  of  one  of  their  fires  were  still  smok 
ing  ;  so  that,  according  to  the  opinion  of 
Beatte,  they  could  not  have  passed  on  above  a 
day  previously.  As  there  was  a  fine  stream  of 
water  close  by,  and  plenty  of  pea- vines  for  the 
horses,  we  encamped  here  for  the  night. 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  35 


We  had  not  been  here  long,  when  we  heard 
a  halloo  from  a  distance,  and  beheld  the  young 
Count  and  his  party  advancing  through  the 
forest.  We  welcomed  them  to  the  camp  with 
heartfelt  satisfaction  ;  for  their  departure  upon 
so  hazardous  an  expedition  had  caused  us 
great  uneasiness.  A  short  experiment  had 
convinced  them  of  the  toil  and  difficulty  of  in 
experienced  travellers  like  themselves  making 
their  way  through  the  wilderness  with  such  a 
train  of  horses,  and  such  slender  attendance. 
Fortunately,  they  determined  to  rejoin  us 
before  night-  fall  ;  one  night's  camping  out 
might  have  cost  them  their  horses.  The 
Count  had  prevailed  upon  his  protege  and 
esquire,  the  young  Osage,  to  continue  with 
him,  and  still  calculated  upon  achieving  great 
exploits,  with  his  assistance,  on  the  buffalo 
prairies. 


Cbapter  1D1F1T. 

News  of  the  Rangers — The  Count  and  his  Indian 
Squire—Halt  in  the  Woods— Woodland  Scene— 
Osage  Village — Osage  Visitors  at  our  Evening  Camp. 

IN  the  morning  early  (Oct.  12)  the  two 
Creeks  who  had  been  sent  express  by  the 
commander  of  Fort  Gibson,  to  stop  the 
company  of  rangers,  arrived  at  our  encamp 
ment  on  their  return.  They  had  left  the  com 
pany  encamped  about  fifty  miles  distant,  in  a 
fine  place  on  the  Arkansas,  abounding  in  game, 
where  they  intended  to  await  our  arrival. 
This  news  spread  animation  throughout  our 
party,  and  we  set  out  on  our  march  at  sunrise 
with  renewed  spirit. 

In  mounting  our  steeds,  the  young  Osage 
attempted  to  throw  a  blanket  upon  his  wild 
horse.  The  fine,  sensitive  animal  took  fright, 
reared  and  recoiled.  The  attitudes  of  the  wild 
horse  and  the  almost  naked  savage  would  have 
formed  studies  for  a  painter  or  a  statuary. 
36 


£our  on  tbe  prafrfes  37 


I  often  pleased  myself,  in  the  course  of  our 
march,  with  noticing  the  appearance  of  the 
young  Count  and  his  newly  enlisted  follower, 
as  they  rode  before  me.  Never  was  preux 
chevalier  better  suited  with  an  esquire.  The 
Count  was  well  mounted,  and,  as  I  have  before 
observed,  was  a  bold  and  graceful  rider.  He 
was  fond,  too,  of  caracoling  his  horse,  and 
dashing  about  in  the  buoyancy  of  youthful 
spirits.  His  dress  was  a  gay  Indian  hunting 
frock,  of  dressed  deer-skin,  setting  well  to  the 
shape,  dyed  of  a  beautiful  purple,  and  fanci 
fully  embroidered  with  silks  of  various  colors  — 
as  if  it  had  been  the  work  of  some  Indian 
beauty,  to  decorate  a  favorite  chief.  With  this 
he  wore  leathern  pantaloons,  a  foraging  cap, 
and  a  double-barrelled  gun  slung  by  a  bando 
leer  athwart  his  back  ;  so  that  he  was  quite  a 
picturesque  figure  as  he  managed  gracefully 
his  spirited  steed. 

The  young  Osage  would  ride  close  behind 
him  on  his  wild  and  beautifully  mottled  horse, 
which  was  decorated  with  crimson  tufts  of  hair. 
He  rode,  with  his  finely  shaped  head  and  bust 
naked  ;  his  blanket  being  girt  round  his  waist. 
He  carried  his  rifle  in  one  hand,  and  managed 
his  horse  with  the  other,  and  seemed  ready  to 
dash  off  at  a  moment's  warning,  with  his  youth 
ful  leader,  on  any  madcap  foray  or  scamper. 


38  Crayon 


The  Count,  with  the  sanguine  anticipations  of 
youth,  promised  himself  many  hardy  adven 
tures  and  exploits  in  company  with  his  youth 
ful  "  brave,"  when  we  should  get  among  the 
buffaloes,  in  the  Pawnee  hunting  grounds. 

After  riding  some  distance,  we  crossed  a 
narrow,  deep  stream,  upon  a  solid  bridge,  the 
remains  of  an  old  beaver  dam  ;  the  industrious 
community  which  had  constructed  it  had  all 
been  destroyed.  Above  us,  a  streaming  flight 
of  wild  geese,  high  in  air,  and  making  a  vocif 
erous  noise,  gave  note  of  the  waning  year. 

About  half-past  ten  o'clock  we  made  a  halt 
in  a  forest,  where  there  was  abundance  of  the 
pea- vine.  Here  we  turned  the  horses  loose  to 
graze.  A  fire  was  made,  water  procured  from 
an  adjacent  spring,  and  in  a  short  time  our 
little  Frenchman,  Tonish,  had  a  pot  of  coffee 
prepared  for  our  refreshment.  While  partaking 
of  it,  we  were  joined  by  an  old  Osage,  one  of  a 
small  hunting  party  who  had  recently  passed 
this  way.  He  was  in  search  of  his  horse, 
which  had  wandered  away,  or  been  stolen. 
Our  half-breed,  Beatte,  made  a  wry  face  on 
hearing  of  Osage  hunters  in  this  direction. 
"  Until  we  pass  those  hunters,"  said  he,  "  we 
shall  see  no  buffaloes.  They  frighten  away 
everything  like  a  prairie  on  fire." 

The  morning  repast  being  over,  the  party 


£out  on  tbe  prairies  39 


amused  themselves  in  various  ways.  Some 
shot  with  their  rifles  at  a  mark,  others  lay 
asleep  half  buried  in  the  deep  bed  of  foliage, 
with  their  heads  resting  on  their  saddles  ; 
others  gossiped  round  the  fire  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree,  which  sent  up  wreaths  of  blue  smoke 
among  the  branches.  The  horses  banqueted 
luxuriously  on  the  pea-vines,  and  some  lay 
down  and  rolled  amongst  them. 

We  were  overshadowed  by  lofty  trees,  with 
straight,  smooth  trunks,  like  stately  columns  ; 
and  as  the  glancing  rays  of  the  sun  shone 
through  the  transparent  leaves,  tinted  with  the 
many-colored  hues  of  autumn,  I  was  reminded 
of  the  effect  of  sunshine  among  the  stained 
windows  and  clustering  columns  of  a  Gothic 
cathedral.  Indeed,  there  is  a  grandeur  and 
solemnity  in  our  spacious  forests  of  the  West, 
that  awaken  in  me  the  same  feeling  I  have  ex 
perienced  in  those  vast  and  venerable  piles,  and 
the  sound  of  the  wind  sweeping  through  them 
supplies  occasionally  the  deep  breathings  of 
the  organ. 

About  noon  the  bugle  sounded  to  horse,  and 
we  were  again  on  the  march,  hoping  to  arrive 
at  the  encampment  of  the  rangers  before  night, 
as  the  old  Osage  had  assured  us  it  was  not 
above  ten  or  twelve  miles  distant.  In  our 
course  through  a  forest,  we  passed  by  a  lonely 


40  dragon 


pool,  covered  with  the  most  magnificent  water- 
lilies  I  had  ever  beheld  ;  among  which  swam 
several  wood-ducks,  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
of  waterfowl,  remarkable  for  the  gracefulness 
and  brilliancy  of  its  plumage. 

After  proceeding  some  distance  farther,  we 
came  down  upon  the  banks  of  the  Arkansas, 
at  a  place  where  tracks  of  numerous  horses,  all 
entering  the  water,  showed  where  a  party  of 
Osage  hunters  had  recently  crossed  the  river 
on  their  way  to  the  buffalo  range.  After  let 
ting  our  horses  drink  in  the  river,  we  continued 
along  its  bank  for  a  space,  and  then  across 
prairies,  where  we  saw  a  distant  smoke,  which 
we  hoped  might  proceed  from  the  encampment 
of  the  rangers.  Following  what  we  supposed 
to  be  their  trail,  we  came  to  a  meadow  in  which 
were  a  number  of  horses  grazing.  They  were 
not,  however,  the  horses  of  the  troop.  A  little 
farther  on,  we  reached  a  straggling  Osage  vil 
lage,  on  the  banks  of  the  Arkansas.  Our 
arrival  created  quite  a  sensation.  A  number 
of  old  men  came  forward  and  shook  hands  with 
us  all  severally  ;  while  the  women  and  children 
huddled  together  in  groups,  staring  at  us 
wildly,  chattering  and  laughing  among  them 
selves.  We  found  that  all  the  young  men  of 
the  village  had  departed  on  a  hunting  expe 
dition,  leaving  the  women  and  children  and 


Gour  on  tbe  iprafrfes  41 


old  men  behind.  Here  the  Commissioner  made 
a  speech  from  on  horseback  ;  informing  his 
hearers  of  the  purport  of  his  mission,  to  pro 
mote  a  general  peace  among  the  tribes  of  the 
West,  and  urging  them  to  lay  aside  all  warlike 
and  blood-thirsty  notions,  and  not  to  make 
any  wanton  attacks  upon  the  Pawnees.  This 
speech  being  interpreted  by  Beatte,  seemed  to 
have  a  most  pacifying  effect  upon  the  multitude, 
who  promised  faithfully  that,  as  far  as  in  them 
lay,  the  peace  should  not  be  disturbed  ;  and 
indeed  their  age  and  sex  gave  some  reason  to 
trust  that  they  would  keep  their  word. 

Still  hoping  to  reach  the  camp  of  the  rangers 
before  nightfall,  we  pushed  on  until  twilight, 
when  we  were  obliged  to  halt  on  the  borders 
of  a  ravine.  The  rangers  bivouacked  under 
trees,  at  the  bottom  of  the  dell,  while  we 
pitched  our  tent  on  a  rocky  knoll  near  a  run 
ning  stream.  The  night  came  on  dark  and 
overcast,  with  flying  clouds,  and  much  appear 
ance  of  rain.  The  fires  of  the  rangers  burnt 
brightly  in  the  dell,  and  threw  strong  masses 
of  light  upon  the  robber-looking  group  that 
were  cooking,  eating,  and  drinking  around 
them.  To  add  to  the  wildness  of  the  scene, 
several  Osage  Indians,  visitors  from  the  village 
we  had  passed,  were  mingled  among  the  men. 
Three  of  them  came  and  seated  themselves  by 


42  dragon  /HMscellang 


our  fire.  They  watched  everything  that  was 
going  on  round  them  in  silence,  and  looked 
like  figures  of  monumental  bronze.  We  gave 
them  food,  and,  what  they  most  relished,  coffee  ; 
for  the  Indians  partake  in  the  universal  fond 
ness  for  this  beverage,  which  pervades  the 
West.  When  they  had  made  their  supper, 
they  stretched  themselves  side  by  side  before 
the  fire,  and  began  a  low  nasal  chant,  drum 
ming  with  their  hands  upon  their  breasts  by 
way  of  accompaniment.  Their  chant  seemed 
to  consist  of  regular  staves,  every  one  termi 
nating,  not  in  a  melodious  cadence,  but  in  the 
abrupt  interjection  huh  !  uttered  almost  like  a 
hiccup.  This  chant,  we  were  told  by  our 
interpreter,  Beatte,  related  to  ourselves,  our 
appearance,  our  treatment  of  them,  and  all 
that  they  knew  of  our  plans.  In  one  part  they 
spoke  of  the  young  Count,  whose  animated 
character  and  eagerness  for  Indian  enterprise 
had  struck  their  fancy,  and  they  indulged  in 
some  waggery  about  him  and  the  young  Indian 
beauties,  that  produced  great  merriment  among 
our  half-breeds. 

This  mode  of  improvising  is  common  through 
out  the  savage  tribes  ;  and  in  this  way,  with  a 
few  simple  inflections  of  the  voice,  they  chant 
all  their  exploits  in  war  and  hunting,  and  occa 
sionally  indulge  in  a  vein  of  comic  humor  and 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  43 


dry  satire,  to  which  the  Indians  appear  to  me 
much  more  prone  than  is  generally  imagined. 

In  fact,  the  Indians  that  I  have  had  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  in  real  life  are  quite 
different  from  those  described  in  poetry.  They 
are  by  no  means  the  stoics  that  they  are  repre 
sented  ;  taciturn,  unbending,  without  a  tear  or 
a  smile.  Taciturn  they  are,  it  is  true,  when  in 
company  with  white  men,  whose  good-  will  they 
distrust,  and  whose  language  they  do  not 
understand  ;  but  the  white  man  is  equally 
taciturn  under  like  circumstances.  When  the 
Indians  are  among  themselves,  however,  there 
cannot  be  greater  gossips.  Half  their  time  is 
taken  up  in  talking  over  their  adventures  in  war 
and  hunting,  and  in  telling  whimsical  stories. 
They  are  great  mimics  and  buffoons,  also,  and 
entertain  themselves  excessively  at  the  expense 
of  the  whites  with  whom  they  have  associated, 
and  who  have  supposed  them  impressed  with 
profound  respect  for  their  grandeur  and  dignity. 
They  are  curious  observers,  noting  everything 
in  silence,  but  with  a  keen  and  watchful  eye  ; 
occasionally  exchanging  a  glance  or  a  grunt 
with  each  other,  when  anything  particularly 
strikes  them  ;  but  reserving  all  comments  until 
they  are  alone.  Then  it  is  that  they  give  full 
scope  to  criticism,  satire,  mimicry,  and  mirth. 

In  the  course  of  my  journey  along  the  fron- 


44  Crayon 


tier  I  have  had  repeated  opportunities  of 
noticing  their  excitability  and  boisterous  merri 
ment  at  their  games  ;  and  have  occasionally 
noticed  a  group  of  Osages  sitting  round  a  fire 
until  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  engaged  in  the 
most  animated  and  lively  conversation  ;  and 
at  times  making  the  woods  resound  with  peals 
of  laughter.  As  to  tears,  they  have  them  in 
abundance,  both  real  and  affected  ;  at  times 
they  make  a  merit  of  them.  No  one  weeps 
more  bitterly  or  profusely  at  the  death  of  a 
relative  or  friend  ;  and  they  have  stated  times 
when  they  repair  to  howl  and  lament  at  their 
graves.  I  have  heard  doleful  wailings  at  day 
break,  in  the  neighboring  Indian  villages,  made 
by  some  of  the  inhabitants,  who  go  out  at  that 
hour  into  the  fields  to  mourn  and  weep  for  the 
dead.  At  such  times,  I  am  told,  the  tears  will 
stream  down  their  cheeks  in  torrents. 

As  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  Indian  of  poetical 
fiction  is,  like  the  shepherd  of  pastoral  ro 
mance,  a  mere  personification  of  imaginary 
attributes. 

The  nasal  chant  of  our  Osage  guests  grad 
ually  died  away  ;  they  covered  their  heads  with 
their  blankets  and  fell  fast  asleep,  and  in  a  little 
while  all  was  silent,  excepting  the  pattering 
of  scattered  raindrops  upon  our  tent. 

In  the  morning  our  Indian  visitors  break- 


tTouc  on  tbe  pratrfes  45 


fasted  with  us,  but  the  young  Osage  who  was 
to  act  as  esquire  to  the  Count  in  his  knight- 
errantry  on  the  prairies,  was  nowhere  to  be 
found.  His  wild  horse,  too,  was  missing,  and, 
after  many  conjectures,  we  came  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  he  had  taken  * '  Indian  leave  "  of  us 
in  the  night.  We  afterwards  ascertained  that 
he  had  been  persuaded  so  to  do  by  the  Osages 
we  had  recently  met  with  ;  who  had  represented 
to  him  the  perils  that  would  attend  him  in  an 
expedition  to  the  Pawnee  hunting  grounds, 
where  he  might  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  im 
placable  enemies  of  his  tribe ;  and,  what  was 
scarcely  less  to  be  apprehended,  the  annoy 
ances  to  which  he  would  be  subjected  from  the 
capricious  and  overbearing  conduct  of  the  white 
men,  who,  as  I  have  witnessed  in  my  own 
short  experience,  are  prone  to  treat  the  poor 
Indians  as  little  better  than  brute  animals. 
Indeed,  he  had  had  a  specimen  of  it  himself 
in  the  narrow  escape  he  made  from  the  inflic 
tion  of  "  Lynch' s  law,"  by  the  hard-working 
worthy  of  the  frontier,  for  the  flagitious  crime 
of  finding  a  stray  horse. 

The  disappearance  of  the  youth  was  gene 
rally  regretted  by  our  party,  for  we  had  all 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  him  from  his  handsome, 
frank,  and  manly  appearance,  and  the  easy 
grace  of  his  deportment.  He  was  indeed  a 


46  Crayon 


native-born  gentleman.  By  none,  however, 
was  he  so  much  lamented  as  by  the  young 
Count,  who  thus  suddenly  found  himself  de 
prived  of  his  esquire.  I  regretted  the  depart 
ure  of  the  Osage  for  his  own  sake,  for  we 
should  have  cherished  him  throughout  the 
expedition,  and  I  am  convinced,  from  the  mu 
nificent  spirit  of  his  patron,  he  would  have 
returned  to  his  tribe  laden  with  wealth  of  beads 
and  trinkets  and  Indian  blankets. 


Cbapter 

The  Honey  Camp. 

THE  weather,  which  had  been  rainy  in  the 
night,  having  held  up,  we  resumed  our 
march  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
in  confident  hope  of  soon  arriving  at  the  en 
campment  of  the  rangers.  We  had  not  ridden 
above  three  or  four  miles  when  we  came  to  a 
large  tree  which  had  recently  been  felled  by  an 
axe,  for  the  wild  honey  contained  in  the  hol 
low  of  its  trunk,  several  broken  flakes  of  which 
still  remained.  We  now  felt  sure  that  the 
camp  could  not  be  far  distant.  About  a  couple 
of  miles  farther  some  of  the  rangers  set  up  a 
shout,  and  pointed  to  a  number  of  horses  graz 
ing  in  a  woody  bottom.  A  few  paces  brought 
us  to  the  brow  of  an  elevated  ridge,  whence  we 
looked  down  upon  the  encampment.  It  was 
a  wild  bandit,  or  Robin  Hood  scene.  In  a 
beautiful  open  forest,  traversed  by  a  running 

47 


48  Gragon 


stream,  were  booths  of  bark  and  branches,  and 
tents  of  blankets, — temporary  shelters  from  the 
recent  rain,  for  the  rangers  commonly  bivouac 
in  the  open  air.  There  were  groups  of  rangers 
in  every  kind  of  uncouth  garb.  Some  were 
cooking  at  large  fires  made  at  the  feet  of  trees  ; 
some  were  stretching  and  dressing  deer-skins  ; 
some  were  shooting  at  a  mark,  and  some  lying 
about  on  the  grass.  Venison  jerked,  and  hung 
on  frames,  was  drying  over  the  embers  in  one 
place  ;  in  another  lay  carcasses  recently  brought 
in  by  the  hunters.  Stacks  of  rifles  were  lean 
ing  against  the  trunks  of  the  trees,  and  sad 
dles,  bridles,  and  powder-horns  hanging  above 
them,  while  the  horses  were  grazing  here  and 
there  among  the  thickets. 

Our  arrival  was  greeted  with  acclamation. 
The  rangers  crowded  about  their  comrades  to 
inquire  the  news  from  the  fort.  For  our  own 
part,  we  were  received  in  frank  simple  hunter's 
style  by  Captain  Bean,  the  commander  of  the 
compan}',  a  man  about  forty  years  of  age, 
vigorous  and  active.  His  life  had  been  chiefly 
passed  on  the  frontier,  occasionally  in  Indian 
warfare  so  that  he  was  a  thorough  woodsman, 
and  a  first-rate  hunter.  He  was  equipped  in 
character ;  in  leathern  hunting  shirt  and  leg- 
gins,  and  a  leathern  foraging  cap. 

While  we  were  conversing  with  the  Captain, 


B  £our  on  tbe  prattles  49 

a  veteran  huntsman  approached,  whose  whole 
appearance  struck  me.  He  was  of  the  middle 
size,  but  tough  and  weather-proved ;  a  head 
partly  bald  and  garnished  with  loose  iron-gray 
locks,  and  a  fine  black  eye,  beaming  with 
youthful  spirit.  His  dress  was  similar  to  that 
of  the  Captain  :  a  rifle-shirt  and  leggins  of 
dressed  deer-skin,  that  had  evidently  seen 
service  ;  a  powder-horn  was  slung  by  his  side, 
a  hunting  knife  stuck  in  his  belt,  and  in  his 
hand  was  an  ancient  and  trusty  rifle,  doubtless 
as  dear  to  him  as  a  bosom  friend.  He  asked 
permission  to  go  hunting,  which  was  readily 
granted.  *  'That's  old  Ryan,"  said  the  Cap 
tain,  when  he  had  gone ;  "  there 's  not  a  better 
hunter  in  the  camp ;  he 's  sure  to  bring  in 
game." 

In  a  little  while  our  pack-horses  were  un 
loaded  and  turned  loose  to  revel  among  the 
pea-vines.  Our  tent  was  pitched,  our  fire 
made  ;  the  half  of  a  deer  had  been  sent  to  us 
from  the  Captain's  lodge  ;  Beatte  brought  in  a 
couple  of  wild  turkeys ;  the  spits  were  laden, 
and  the  camp-kettle  crammed  with  meat ;  and, 
to  crown  our  luxuries,  a  basin  filled  with  great 
flakes  of  delicious  honey,  the  spoils  of  a  plun 
dered  bee-tree,  was  given  us  by  one  of  the 
rangers. 

Our  little  Frenchman,   Tonish,  was  in  an 

VOL.  I.— 4 


Cragon 


ecstasy,  and  tucking  up  his  sleeves  to  the 
elbows,  set  to  work  to  make  a  display  of  his 
culinary  skill,  on  which  he  prided  himself  al 
most  as  much  as  upon  his  hunting,  his  riding, 
and  his  warlike  prowess. 


Cbapter  Iff , 

A  Bee-Hunt. 

beautiful  forest  in  which  we  were  en 
camped  abounded  in  bee-trees  ;  that  is 
to  say,  trees  in  the  decayed  trunks  of 
which  wild  bees  had  established  their  hives. 
It  is  surprising  in  what  countless  swarms  the 
bees  have  overspread  the  Far  West  within  but 
a  moderate  number  of  years.  The  Indians 
consider  them  the  harbinger  of  the  white  man, 
as  the  buffalo  is  of  the  red  man  ;  and  say  that, 
in  proportion  as  the  bee  advances,  the  Indian 
and  buffalo  retire.  We  are  always  accustomed 
to  associate  the  hum  of  the  bee-hive  with  the 
farm-house  and  flower  garden,  and  to  consider 
those  industrious  little  animals  as  connected 
with  the  busy  haunts  of  man  ;  and  I  am  told 
that  the  wild  bee  is  seldom  to  be  met  with  at 
any  great  distance  from  the  frontier.  They 
have  been  the  heralds  of  civilization,  steadfastly 
preceding  it  as  it  advanced  from  the  Atlantic 
51 


52  Crayon  flbtecellang 


borders,  and  some  of  the  ancient  settlers  of  the 
West  pretend  to  give  the  very  year  when  the 
honey-bee  first  crossed  the  Mississippi.  The 
Indians  with  surprise  found  the  mouldering 
trees  of  their  forests  suddenly  teeming  with 
ambrosial  sweets,  and  nothing,  I  am  told,  can 
exceed  the  greedy  relish  with  which  they  ban 
quet  for  the  first  time  upon  this  unbought 
luxury  of  the  wilderness. 

At  present  the  honey-bee  swarms  in  myriads, 
in  the  noble  groves  and  forests  which  skirt  and 
intersect  the  prairies,  and  extend  along  the 
alluvial  bottoms  of  the  rivers.  It  seems  to  me 
as  if  these  beautiful  regions  answer  literally  to 
the  description  of  the  land  of  promise,  "  a  land 
flowing  with  milk  and  honey  "  ;  for  the  rich 
pasturage  of  the  prairies  is  calculated  to  sus 
tain  herds  of  cattle  as  countless  as  the  sands 
upon  the  sea-shore,  while  the  flowers  with 
which  they  are  enamelled  render  them  a  very 
paradise  for  the  nectar-seeking  bee. 

We  had  not  been  long  in  the  camp  when  a 
party  set  out  in  quest  of  a  bee-tree  ;  and,  being 
curious  to  witness  the  sport,  I  gladly  accepted 
an  invitation  to  accompany  them.  The  party 
was  headed  by  a  veteran  bee-hunter,  a  tall, 
lank  fellow  in  homespun  garb  that  hung 
loosely  about  his  limbs,  and  a  straw  hat  shaped 
not  unlike  a  bee-hive  ;  a  comrade,  equally  un- 


B  3our  on  tbe  prairies  53 

couth  in  garb,  and  without  a  hat,  straddled 
along  at  his  heels,  with  a  long  rifle  on  his 
shoulder.  To  these  succeeded  half  a  dozen 
others,  some  with  axes  and  some  with  rifles, 
for  no  one  stirs  far  from  the  camp  without  his 
firearms,  so  as  to  be  ready  either  for  wild  deer 
or  wild  Indian. 

After  proceeding  some  distance,  we  came  to 
an  open  glade  on  the  skirts  of  the  forest.  Here 
our  leader  halted,  and  then  advanced  quietly 
to  a  low  bush,  on  the  top  of  which  I  perceived 
a  piece  of  honey-comb.  This  I  found  was  the 
bait  or  lure  for  the  wild  bees.  Several  were 
humming  about  it,  and  diving  into  its  cells. 
When  they  had  laden  themselves  with  honey, 
they  would  rise  into  the  air,  and  dart  off  in  a 
straight  line,  almost  with  the  velocity  of  a 
bullet.  The  hunters  watched  attentively  the 
course  they  took,  and  then  set  off  in  the  same 
direction,  stumbling  along  over  twisted  roots 
and  fallen  trees,  with  their  eyes  turned  up  to 
the  sky.  In  this  way  they  traced  the  honey- 
laden  bees  to  their  hive,  in  the  hollow  trunk 
of  a  blasted  oak,  where,  after  buzzing  about 
for  a  moment,  they  entered  a  hole  about  sixty/ 
feet  from  the  ground. 

Two  of  the  bee-hunters  now  plied  their  axes 
vigorously  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  to  level  it 
with  the  ground.  The  mere  spectators  and 


54  Cragon 


amateurs,  in  the  meantime,  drew  off  to  a  cau 
tious  distance,  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  the 
falling  of  the  tree  and  the  vengeance  of  its  in 
mates.  The  jarring  blows  of  the  axe  seemed 
to  have  no  effect  in  alarming  or  disturbing  this 
most  industrious  community.  They  continued 
to  ply  at  their  usual  occupations,  some  arriving 
full  freighted  into  port,  others  sallying  forth 
on  new  expeditions,  like  so  many  merchant 
men  in  a  money-making  metropolis,  little 
suspicious  of  impending  bankruptcy  and  down 
fall.  Even  a  loud  crack,  which  announced  the 
disrupture  of  the  trunk,  failed  to  divert  their 
attention  from  the  intense  pursuit  of  gain  ;  at 
length  down  came  the  tree  with  a  tremendous 
crash,  bursting  open  from  end  to  end,  and  dis 
playing  all  the  horded  treasures  of  the  common 
wealth. 

One  of  the  hunters  immediately  ran  up  with 
a  wisp  of  lighted  hay  as  a  defense  against  the 
bees.  The  latter,  however,  made  no  attack 
and  sought  no  revenge  ;  they  seemed  stupefied 
by  the  catastrophe  and  unsuspicious  of  its 
cause,  and  remained  crawling  and  buzzing 
about  the  ruins  without  offering  us  any  moles 
tation.  Every  one  of  the  party  now  fell  to, 
with  spoon  and  hunting  knife,  to  scoop  out  the 
flakes  of  honey-comb  with  which  the  hollow 
trunk  was  stored.  Some  of  them  were  of  old 


ttour  on  tbe  prairies  55 


date  and  a  deep  brown  color,  others  were  beau 
tifully  white,  and  the  honey  in  their  cells  was 
almost  limpid.  Such  of  the  combs  as  were 
entire  were  placed  in  camp  kettles  to  be  con 
veyed  to  the  encampment  ;  those  which  had 
been  shivered  in  the  fall  were  devoured  upon 
the  spot.  Kvery  stark  bee-hunter  was  to  be 
seen  with  a  rich  morsel  in  his  hand,  dripping 
about  his  fingers,  and  disappearing  as  rapidly 
as  a  cream  tart  before  the  holiday  appetite  of  a 
schoolboy. 

Nor  was  it  the  bee-hunters  alone  that  profited 
by  the  downfall  of  this  industrious  community. 
As  if  the  bees  would  carry  through  the  simili 
tude  of  their  habits  with  those  of  laborious  and 
gainful  man,  I  beheld  numbers  from  rival  hives, 
arriving  on  eager  wing,  to  enrich  themselves 
with  the  ruins  of  their  neighbors.  These 
busied  themselves  as  eagerly  and  cheerfully  as 
so  many  wreckers  on  an  Indiaman  that  has 
been  driven  on  shore  ;  plunging  into  the  cells 
of  the  broken  honey-combs,  banqueting  greed 
ily  on  the  spoil,  and  then  winging  their  way 
full  freighted  to  their  homes.  As  to  the  poor 
proprietors  of  the  ruin,  they  seemed  to  have  no 
heart  to  do  anything,  not  even  to  taste  the 
nectar  that  flowed  around  them  ;  but  crawled 
backwards  and  forwards,  in  vacant  desolation, 
as  I  have  seen  a  poor  fellow  with  his  hands  in 


56  dragon 


his  pockets,  whistling  vacantly  and  despond- 
ingly  about  the  ruins  of  his  house  that  had 
been  burnt. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe  the  bewilderment 
and  confusion  of  the  bees  of  the  bankrupt  hive 
who  had  been  absent  at  the  time  of  the  catas 
trophe,  and  who  arrived  from  time  to  time, 
with  full  cargoes  from  abroad.  At  first  they 
wheeled  about  in  the  air,  in  the  place  where 
the  fallen  tree  had  once  reared  its  head,  aston 
ished  at  finding  it  all  a  vacuum.  At  length, 
as  if  comprehending  their  disaster,  they  settled 
down  in  clusters  on  a  dry  branch  of  a  neigh 
boring  tree,  whence  they  seemed  to  contem 
plate  the  prostrate  ruin,  and  to  buzz  forth 
doleful  lamentations  over  the  downfall  of  their 
republic.  It  was  a  scene  on  which  the  ' '  mel 
ancholy  Jacques ' '  might  have  moralized  by 
the  hour. 

We  now  abandoned  the  place,  leaving  much 
honey  in  the  hollow  of  the  tree.  '  *  It  will  all 
be  cleared  off  by  varmint,"  said  one  of  the 
rangers.  "  What  vermin  ?  "  asked  I.  "  Oh, 
bears,  and  skunks,  and  raccoons,  and  'possums. 
The  bears  is  the  knowingest  varmint  for  find 
ing  out  a  bee-tree  in  the  world.  They  '11  gnaw 
for  days  together  at  the  trunk  till  they  make  a 
hole  big  enough  to  get  in  their  paws,  and  then 
they  '11  haul  out  honey,  bees,  and  all." 


Cbapter  £ . 

Amusements  in  the  Camp — Consultations — Hunters' 

Fare  and  Feasting— Evening  Scenes— Camp 

Melody— The  Fate  of  an  Amateur  Owl. 

ON  returning  to  the  camp,  we  found  it  a 
scene  of  the  greatest  hilarity.  Some 
of  the  rangers  were  shooting  at  a  mark, 
others  were  leaping,  wrestling,  and  playing  at 
prison-bars.  They  were  mostly  young  men, 
on  their  first  expedition,  in  high  health  and 
vigor,  and  buoyant  with  anticipations ;  and  I 
can  conceive  nothing  more  likely  to  set  the 
youthful  blood  into  a  flow  than  a  wild  wood 
life  of  the  kind,  and  the  range  of  a  magnificent 
wilderness,  abounding  with  game,  and  fruitful 
of  adventure.  We  send  our  youth  abroad  to 
grow  luxurious  and  effeminate  in  Europe ;  it 
appears  to  me  that  a  previous  tour  on  the  prai 
ries  would  be  more  likely  to  produce  that  man 
liness,  simplicity,  and  self-dependence  most  in 
unison  with  our  political  institutions. 
57 


58  dragon 


While  the  young  men  were  engaged  in  these 
boisterous  amusements,  a  graver  set,  composed 
of  the  Captain,  the  Doctor,  and  other  sages 
and  leaders  of  the  camp,  were  seated  or 
stretched  out  on  the  grass,  round  a  frontier 
map,  holding  a  consultation  about  our  position, 
and  the  course  we  were  to  pursue. 

Our  plan  was  to  cross  the  Arkansas  just 
above  where  the  Red  Fork  falls  into  it,  then  to 
keep  westerly,  until  we  should  pass  through  a 
grand  belt  of  open  forest,  called  the  Cross  Tim 
ber,  which  ranges  nearly  north  and  south  from 
the  Arkansas  to  Red  River ;  after  which  we 
were  to  keep  a  southerly  course  towards  the 
latter  river. 

Our  half-breed,  Beatte,  being  an  experienced 
Osage  hunter,  was  called  into  the  consultation. 
' '  Have  you  ever  hunted  in  this  direction  ?  ' ' 
said  the  Captain.  '  *  Yes, ' '  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"  Perhaps,  then,  you  can  tell  us  in  which 
direction  lies  the  Red  Fork  ?  " 

' '  If  you  keep  along  yonder,  by  the  edge  of 
the  prairie,  you  will  come  to  a  bald  hill,  with  a 
pile  of  stones  upon  it." 

1 '  I  have  noticed  that  hill  as  I  was  hunting, ' ' 
said  the  Captain. 

"Well!  those  stones  were  set  up  by  the 
Osages  as  a  landmark  :  from  that  spot  you 
may  have  a  sight  of  the  Red  Fork." 


Sour  on  tbe  prairies  59 


"  In  that  case,"  cried  the  Captain,  "  we  shall 
reach  the  Red  Fork  to-morrow  ;  then  cross  the 
Arkansas  above  it,  into  the  Pawnee  country, 
and  then  in  two  days  we  shall  crack  buffalo 
bones!" 

The  idea  of  arriving  at  the  adventurous 
hunting  grounds  of  the  Pawnees,  and  of  com 
ing  upon  the  traces  of  the  buffaloes,  made 
every  eye  sparkle  with  animation.  Our  further 
conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  sharp  re 
port  of  a  rifle  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
camp. 

"That's  old  Ryan's  rifle,"  exclaimed  the 
Captain;  "there's  a  buck  down,  I'll  war 
rant  !  ' '  nor  was  he  mistaken  ;  for,  before  long, 
the  veteran  made  his  appearance,  calling  upon 
one  of  the  younger  rangers  to  return  with 
him,  and  aid  in  bringing  home  the  carcass. 

The  surrounding  country,  in  fact,  abounded 
with  game,  so  that  the  camp  was  overstocked 
with  provisions,  and,  as  no  less  than  twenty 
bee-trees  had  been  cut  down  in  the  vicinity, 
every  one  revelled  in  luxury.  With  the  waste 
ful  prodigality  of  hunters,  there  was  a  contin 
ual  feasting,  and  scarce  any  one  put  by  pro 
vision  for  the  morrow.  The  cooking  was  con 
ducted  in  hunters'  style :  the  meat  was  stuck 
upon  tapering  spits  of  dogwood,  which  were 
thrust  perpendicularly  into  the  ground,  so  as 


60  dragon 


to  sustain  the  joint  before  the  fire,  where  it  was 
roasted  or  broiled  with  all  its  juices  retained  in 
it  in  a  manner  that  would  have  tickled  the 
palate  of  the  most  experienced  gourmand.  As 
much  could  not  be  said  in  favor  of  the  bread. 
It  was  little  more  than  a  paste  made  of  flour 
and  water,  and  fried  like  fritters,  in  lard  : 
though  some  adopted  a  ruder  style,  twisting  it 
round  the  ends  of  sticks,  and  thus  roasting  it 
before  the  fire.  In  either  way,  I  have  found  it 
extremely  palatable  on  the  prairies.  No  one 
knows  the  true  relish  of  food  until  he  has  a 
hunter's  appetite. 

Before  sunset,  we  were  summoned  by  little 
Tonish  to  a  sumptuous  repast.  Blankets  had 
been  spread  on  the  ground  near  to  the  fire, 
upon  which  we  took  our  seats.  A  large  dish, 
or  bowl,  made  from  the  root  of  a  maple- tree, 
and  which  we  had  purchased  at  the  Indian 
village,  was  placed  on  the  ground  before  us, 
and  into  it  were  emptied  the  contents  of  one 
of  the  camp  kettles,  consisting  of  a  wild  tur 
key  hashed  together  with  slices  of  bacon  and 
lumps  of  dough.  Beside  it  was  placed  another 
bowl  of  similar  ware,  containing  an  ample 
supply  of  fritters.  After  we  had  discussed  the 
hash,  two  wooden  spits,  on  which  the  ribs  of 
a  fat  buck  were  broiling  before  the  fire,  were 
removed  and  planted  in  the  ground  before  us 


tTour  on  tbe  iprairtes  61 


with  a  triumphant  air,  by  little  Tonish.  Hav 
ing  no  dishes,  we  had  to  proceed  in  hunters' 
style,  cutting  off  strips  and  slices  with  our 
hunting  knives,  and  dipping  them  in  salt  and 
pepper.  To  do  justice  to  Tonish'  s  cookery, 
however,  and  to  the  keen  sauce  of  the  prairies, 
never  have  I  tasted  venison  so  delicious. 
With  all  this,  our  beverage  was  coffee,  boiled 
in  a  camp  kettle,  sweetened  with  brown  sugar, 
and  drunk  out  of  tin  cups  —  and  such  was  the 
style  of  our  banqueting  throughout  this  expe 
dition,  whenever  provisions  were  plenty,  and 
as  long  as  flour  and  coffee  and  sugar  held 
out. 

As  the  twilight  thickened  into  night,  the 
sentinels  were  marched  forth  to  their  stations 
around  the  camp  —  an  indispensable  precaution 
in  a  country  infested  by  Indians.  The  encamp 
ment  now  presented  a  picturesque  appearance. 
Camp-fires  were  blazing  and  smouldering  here 
and  there  among  the  trees,  with  groups  of 
rangers  round  them  ;  some  seated  or  lying  on 
the  ground,  others  standing  in  the  ruddy  glare 
of  the  flames,  or  in  shadowy  relief.  At  some 
of  the  fires  there  was  much  boisterous  mirth, 
where  peals  of  laughter  were  mingled  with 
loud  ribald  jokes  and  uncouth  exclamations; 
for  the  troop  was  evidently  a  raw,  undisciplined 
band,  levied  among  the  wild  youngsters  of  the 


62  Gragon 


frontier,  who  had  enlisted,  some  for  the  sake 
of  roving  adventure,  and  some  for  the  purpose 
of  getting  a  knowledge  of  the  country.  Many 
of  them  were  the  neighbors  of  their  officers, 
and  accustomed  to  regard  them  with  the  famil 
iarity  of  equals  and  companions.  None  of 
them  had  any  idea  of  the  restraint  and  decorum 
of  a  camp,  or  ambition  to  acquire  a  name  for 
exactness  in  a  profession  in  which  they  had  no 
intention  of  continuing. 

While  this  boisterous  merriment  prevailed 
at  some  of  the  fires,  there  suddenly  rose  a  strain 
of  nasal  melody  from  another,  at  which  a  choir 
of  '  *  vocalists  ' '  were  uniting  their  voices  in  a 
most  lugubrious  psalm-tune.  This  was  led  by 
one  of  the  lieutenants,  a  tall,  spare  man,  who  we 
were  informed  had  officiated  as  schoolmaster, 
singing-master,  and  occasionally  as  Methodist 
preacher,  in  one  of  the  villages  of  the  frontier. 
The  chant  rose  solemnly  and  sadly  in  the  night 
air,  and  reminded  me  of  the  description  of 
similar  canticles  in  the  camps  of  the  Cove 
nanters  ;  and,  indeed,  the  strange  medley  of 
figures  and  faces  and  uncouth  garbs  congre 
gated  together  in  our  troop  would  not  have 
disgraced  the  banners  of  Praise-God  Barebone. 

In  one  of  the  intervals  of  this  nasal  psalmody 
an  amateur  owl,  as  if  in  competition,  began  his 
dreary  hooting.  Immediately  there  was  a  cry 


B  ZTour  on  tbe  prairies  63 

throughout  the  camp  of  "  Charley's  owl  ! 
Charley's  owl!"  It  seems  this  "obscure 
bird"  had  visited  the  camp  every  night,  and 
had  been  fired  at  by  one  of  the  sentinels,  a 
half-witted  lad  named  Charley  ;  who,  on  being 
called  up  for  firing  when  on  duty,  excused 
himself  by  saying,  that  he  understood  that  owls 
made  uncommonly  good  soup. 

One  of  the  young  rangers  mimicked  the  cry 
of  this  bird  of  wisdom,  who,  with  a  simplicity 
little  consonant  with  his  character,  came  hov 
ering  within  sight,  and  alighted  on  the  naked 
branch  of  a  tree  lit  up  by  the  blaze  of  our  fire. 
The  young  Count  immediately  seized  his  fowl 
ing-piece,  took  fatal  aim,  and  in  a  twinkling 
the  poor  bird  of  ill  omen  came  fluttering  to  the 
ground.  Charley  was  now  called  upon  to  make 
and  eat  his  dish  of  owl-soup,  but  declined,  as 
he  had  not  shot  the  bird. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  I  paid  a  visit  to 
the  Captain's  fire.  It  was  composed  of  huge 
trunks  of  trees,  and  of  sufficient  magnitude  to 
roast  a  buffalo  whole.  Here  were  a  number  of 
the  prime  hunters  and  leaders  of  the  camp, 
some  sitting,  some  standing,  and  others  lying 
on  skins  or  blankets  before  the  fire,  telling 
old  frontier  stories  about  hunting  and  Indian 
warfare. 

As  the  night  advanced,  we  perceived  above 


64  dragon  jflBf0cellang 


the  trees,  to  the  west,  a  ruddy  glow  flushing 
up  the  sky. 

"  That  must  be  a  prairie  set  on  fire  by  the 
Osage  hunters,"  said  the  Captain. 

"It  is  at  the  Red  Fork,"  said  Beatte,  re 
garding  the  sky.  "  It  seems  but  three  miles 
distant,  yet  it  perhaps  is  twenty." 

About  half-past  eight  o'clock,  a  beautiful 
pale  light  gradually  sprang  up  in  the  east,  a 
precursor  of  the  rising  moon.  Drawing  off 
from  the  Captain's  lodge,  I  now  prepared  for 
the  night's  repose.  I  had  determined  to  aban 
don  the  shelter  of  the  tent,  and  henceforth  to 
bivouac  like  the  rangers.  A  bear-skin  spread 
at  the  foot  of  a  tree  was  my  bed,  with  a  pair 
of  saddle-bags  for  a  pillow.  Wrapping  myself 
in  blankets,  I  stretched  myself  on  this  hunter's 
couch,  and  soon  fell  into  a  sound  and  sweet 
sleep,  from  which  I  did  not  awake  until  the 
bugle  sounded  at  daybreak. 


Gbapter  f  1F* 

Breaking  up  of  the  Encampment — Picturesque  March 
— Game — Camp  Scenes — Triumph  of  a  Young  Hun 
ter — 111  Success  of  Old  Hunters — Foul  Murder  of  a 
Polecat. 

October  14. 

AT  the  signal-note  of  the  bugle,  the  senti 
nels  and  patrols  marched  in  from  their 
stations  around  the  camp  and  were  dis 
missed.  The  rangers  were  roused  from  their 
night's  repose,  and  soon  a  bustling  scene  took 
place.  While  some  cut  wood,  made  fires,  and 
prepared  the  morning's  meal,  others  struck 
their  foul-weather  shelters  of  blankets,  and 
made  every  preparation  for  departure;  while 
others  dashed  about,  through  brush  and  brake, 
catching  the  horses  and  leading  or  driving 
them  into  camp. 

During  all  this  bustle  the  forest  rang  with 
whoops,  and  shouts,  and  peals  of  laughter. 
When  all  had  breakfasted,  packed  up  their  ef 
fects  and  camp  equipage,  and  loaded  the  pack- 


66  dragon 


horses,  the  bugle  sounded  to  saddle  and  mount. 
By  eight  o'clock  the  whole  troop  set  off  in  a 
long  straggling  line,  with  whoop  and  halloo, 
intermingled  with  many  an  oath  at  the  loiter 
ing  pack-horses,  and  in  a  little  while  the  for 
est,  which  for  several  days  had  been  the  scene 
of  such  unwonted  bustle  and  uproar,  relapsed 
into  its  primeval  solitude  and  silence. 

It  was  a  bright  sunny  morning,  with  a  pure 
transparent  atmosphere  that  seemed  to  bathe 
the  very  heart  with  gladness.  Our  march  con 
tinued  parallel  to  the  Arkansas,  through  a  rich 
and  varied  country  ; — sometimes  we  had  to 
break  our  way  through  alluvial  bottoms  matted 
with  redundant  vegetation,  where  the  gigantic 
trees  were  entangled  with  grapevines,  hanging 
like  cordage  from  their  branches  ;  sometimes 
we  coasted  along  sluggish  brooks,  whose  feeWy 
trickling  current  just  served  to  link  together  a 
succession  of  glassy  pools,  imbedded  like  mir 
rors  in  the  quiet  bosom  of  the  forest,  reflecting 
its  autumnal  foliage  and  patches  of  the  clear 
blue  sky.  Sometimes  we  scrambled  up  broken 
and  rocky  hills,  from  the  summits  of  which  we 
had  wide  views  stretching  on  one  side  over  dis 
tant  prairies  diversified  by  groves  and  forests, 
and  on  the  other  ranging  along  a  line  of  blue 
and  shadowy  hills  beyond  the  waters  of  the 
Arkansas. 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  67 


The  appearance  of  our  troop  was  suited  to 
the  country  :  stretching  along  in  a  line  of  up 
wards  of  half  a  mile  in  length,  winding  among 
brakes  and  bushes,  and  up  and  down  the  de 
files  of  the  hills,  —  the  men  in  every  kind  of 
uncouth  garb,  with  long  rifles  on  their  shoul 
ders,  and  mounted  on  horses  of  every  color. 
The  pack-horses,  too,  would  incessantly  wan 
der  from  the  line  of  march,  to  crop  the  sur 
rounding  herbage,  and  were  banged  and  beaten 
back  by  Tonish  and  his  half-breed  compeers, 
with  volleys  of  mongrel  oaths.  Every  now 
and  then  the  notes  of  the  bugle,  from  the  head 
of  the  column,  would  echo  through  the  wood 
lands  and  along  the  hollow  glens,  summoning 
up  stragglers,  and  announcing  the  line  of 
march.  The  whole  scene  reminded  me  of  the 
description  given  of  bands  of  buccaneers  pene 
trating  the  wilds  of  South  America,  on  their 
plundering  expeditions  against  the  Spanish 
settlements. 

At  one  time  we  passed  through  a  luxuriant 
bottom  of  meadow  bordered  by  thickets,  where 
the  tall  grass  was  pressed  down  into  numerous 
*  '  deer  beds,  '  '  where  those  animals  had  couched 
the  preceding  night.  Some  oak-trees  also  bore 
signs  of  having  been  clambered  by  bears,  in 
quest  of  acorns,  the  marks  of  their  claws  being 
visible  in  the  bark. 


68  Crayon  flfctecellang 


As  we  opened  a  glade  of  this  sheltered 
meadow,  we  beheld  several  deer  bounding 
away  in  wild  affright,  until,  having  gained 
some  distance,  they  would  stop  and  gaze  back, 
with  the  curiosity  common  to  this  animal,  at 
the  strange  intruders  into  their  solitudes. 
There  was  immediately  a  sharp  report  of  rifles 
in  every  direction,  from  the  young  huntsmen 
of  the  troop,  but  they  were  too  eager  to  aim 
surely,  and  the  deer,  unharmed,  bounded  away 
into  the  depths  of  the  forest. 

In  the  course  of  our  march  we  struck  the 
Arkansas,  but  found  ourselves  still  below  the 
Red  Fork,  and,  as  the  river  made  deep  bends, 
we  again  left  its  banks  and  continued  through 
the  woods  until  nearly  eight  o'clock,  when  we 
encamped  in  a  beautiful  basin  bordered  by  a 
fine  stream,  and  shaded  by  clumps  of  lofty 
oaks. 

The  horses  were  now  hobbled,  that  is  to  say, 
their  fore-legs  were  fettered  with  cords  or  leath 
ern  straps,  so  as  to  impede  their  movements, 
and  prevent  their  wandering  from  the  camp. 
They  were  then  turned  loose  to  graze.  A 
number  of  rangers,  prime  hunters,  started  off 
in  different  directions  in  search  of  game. 
There  was  no  whooping  or  laughing  about  the 
camp  as  in  the  morning  ;  all  were  either  busy 
about  the  fires  preparing  the  evening's  repast, 


ZTour  on  tbe  prafrfes  69 


or  reposing  upon  the  grass.  Shots  were  soon 
heard  in  various  directions.  After  a  time  a 
huntsman  rode  into  the  camp,  with  the  carcass 
of  a  fine  buck  hanging  across  his  horse. 
Shortly  afterwards  came  in  a  couple  of  strip 
ling  hunters  on  foot,  one  of  whom  bore  on  his 
shoulders  the  body  of  a  doe.  He  was  evidently 
proud  of  his  spoil,  being  probably  one  of  his 
first  achievements,  though  he  and  his  compan 
ion  were  much  bantered  by  their  comrades,  as 
young  beginners  who  hunted  in  partnership. 

Just  as  the  night  set  in,  there  was  a  great 
shouting  at  one  end  of  the  camp,  and  immedi 
ately  afterwards  a  body  of  young  rangers  came 
parading  round  the  various  fires,  bearing  one 
of  their  comrades  in  triumph  on  their  shoulders. 
He  had  shot  an  elk  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
and  it  was  the  first  animal  of  the  kind  that  had 
been  killed  on  this  expedition.  The  young 
huntsman,  whose  name  was  M'L,ellan,  was  the 
hero  of  the  camp  for  the  night,  and  was  the 
"father  of  the  feast"  into  the  bargain;  for 
portions  of  his  elk  were  seen  roasting  at  every 
fire. 

The  other  hunters  returned  without  success. 
The  Captain  had  observed  the  tracks  of  a  buf 
falo  which  must  have  passed  within  a  few  days, 
and  had  tracked  a  bear  for  some  distance  until 
the  footprints  had  disappeared.  He  had  seen 


70  Crayon 


an  elk  too,  on  the  banks  of  the  Arkansas, 
which  walked  out  on  a  sand-bar  of  the  river, 
but  before  he  could  steal  round  through  the 
bushes  to  get  a  shot,  it  had  re-entered  the 
woods. 

Our  own  hunter,  Beatte,  returned  silent  and 
sulky  from  an  unsuccessful  hunt.  As  yet  he 
had  brought  us  in  nothing,  and  we  had  de 
pended  for  our  supplies  of  venison  upon  the 
Captain's  mess.  Beatte  was  evidently  mor 
tified,  for  he  looked  down  with  contempt 
upon  the  rangers,  as  raw  and  inexperienced 
woodsmen,  but  little  skilled  in  hunting ; — 
they,  on  the  other  hand,  regarded  Beatte  with 
no  very  complacent  eye,  as  one  of  an  evil  breed, 
and  always  spoke  of  him  as  "  the  Indian." 

Our  little  Frenchman,  Tonish,  also,  by  his 
incessant  boasting  and  chattering,  and  gascon 
ading,  in  his  balderdashed  dialect,  had  drawn 
upon  himself  the  ridicule  of  many  of  the  wags 
of  the  troop,  who  amused  themselves  at  his 
expense  in  a  kind  of  raillery  by  no  means 
remarkable  for  its  delicacy  ;  but  the  little  varlet 
was  so  completely  fortified  by  vanity  and  self- 
conceit,  that  he  was  invulnerable  to  every  joke. 
I  must  confess,  however,  that  I  felt  a  little 
mortified  at  the  sorry  figure  our  retainers  were 
making  among  these  moss-trappers  of  the 
frontier.  Even  our  very  equipments  came  in 


{Four  on  tbe  Dairies  71 


for  a  share  of  unpopularity,  and  I  heard  many 
sneers  at  the  doubled-barrelled  guns  with 
which  we  were  provided  against  smaller  game  ; 
the  lads  of  the  West  holding  "  shot-guns,  "  as 
they  called  them,  in  great  contempt,  thinking 
grouse,  partridges,  and  even  wild  turkeys  as 
beneath  their  serious  attention,  and  the  rifle 
the  only  fire-arm  worthy  of  a  hunter. 

I  was  awakened  before  daybreak  the  next 
morning  by  the  mournful  howling  of  a  wolf, 
who  was  skulking  about  the  purlieus  of  the 
camp,  attracted  by  the  scent  of  venison. 
Scarcely  had  the  first  gray  streak  of  dawn 
appeared,  when  a  youngster  at  one  of  the  dis 
tant  lodges,  shaking  off  his  sleep,  crowed  in 
imitation  of  a  cock,  with  a  loud  clear  note  and 
prolonged  cadence,  that  would  have  done 
credit  to  the  most  veteran  chanticleer.  He 
was  immediately  answered  from  another  quar 
ter,  as  if  from  a  rival  rooster.  The  chant  was 
echoed  from  lodge  to  lodge,  and  followed  by 
the  cackling  of  hens,  quacking  of  ducks,  gab 
bling  of  turkeys,  and  grunting  of  swine,  until 
we  seemed  to  have  been  transported  into  the 
midst  of  a  farm-yard  with  all  its  inmates  in  full 
concert  around  us. 

After  riding  a  short  distance  this  morning, 
we  come  upon  a  well-worn  Indian  track,  and 
following  it,  scrambled  to  the  summit  of  a  hill, 


72  dragon 


whence  we  had  a  wide  prospect  over  a  country 
diversified  by  rocky  ridges  and  waving  lines  of 
upland,  and  enriched  by  groves  and  clumps  of 
trees  of  varied  tuft  and  foliage.  At  a  distance 
to  the  west,  to  our  satisfaction,  we  beheld  the 
Red  Fork  rolling  its  ruddy  current  to  the 
Arkansas,  and  found  that  we  were  above  the 
point  of  junction.  We  now  descended  and 
pushed  forward,  with  much  difficulty,  through 
the  rich  alluvial  bottom  that  borders  the 
Arkansas.  Here  the  trees  were  interwoven 
with  grapevines,  forming  a  kind  of  cordage, 
from  trunk  to  trunk  and  limb  to  limb  ;  there 
was  a  thick  undergrowth,  also,  of  bush  and 
bramble,  and  such  an  abundance  of  hops,  fit 
for  gathering,  that  it  was  difficult  for  our 
horses  to  force  their  way  through. 

The  soil  was  imprinted  in  many  places  with 
the  tracks  of  deer,  and  the  claws  of  bears  were 
to  be  traced  on  various  trees.  Every  one  was 
on  the  look-out  in  the  hope  of  starting  some 
game,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  bustle  and  a 
clamor  in  a  distant  part  of  the  line.  A  bear  ! 
a  bear  !  was  the  cry.  We  all  pressed  forward 
to  be  present  at  the  sport,  when  to  my  infinite 
though  whimsical  chagrin  I  found  it  to  be  our 
two  worthies,  Beatte  and  Tonish,  perpetrating 
a  foul  murder  on  a  polecat,  or  skunk !  The 
animal  had  ensconced  itself  beneath  the  trunk 


B  Gour  on  tbe  iprafrfes  73 

of  a  fallen  tree,  whence  it  kept  up  a  vigorous 
defence  in  its  peculiar  style,  until  the  surround 
ing  forest  was  in  a  high  state  of  fragrance. 

Gibes  and  jokes  now  broke  out  on  all  sides 
at  the  expense  of  the  Indian  hunter,  and  he 
was  advised  to  wear  the  scalp  of  the  skunk  as 
the  only  trophy  of  his  prowess.  When  they 
found,  however,  that  he  and  Tonish  were  ab 
solutely  bent  upon  bearing  off  the  carcass  as  a 
peculiar  dainty,  there  was  a  universal  expres 
sion  of  disgust;  and  they  were  regarded  as 
little  better  than  cannibals. 

Mortified  at  this  ignominious  d£but  of  our 
two  hunters,  I  insisted  upon  their  abandoning 
their  prize  and  resuming  their  march.  Beatte 
complied  with  a  dogged,  discontented  air,  and 
lagged  behind  muttering  to  himself.  Tonish, 
however,  with  his  usual  buoyancy,  consoled 
himself  by  vociferous  eulogies  on  the  richness 
and  delicacy  of  a  roasted  polecat,  which  he 
swore  was  considered  the  daintiest  of  dishes 
by  all  experienced  Indian  gourmands.  It  was 
with  difficulty  I  could  silence  his  loquacity  by 
repeated  and  peremptory  commands.  A  French 
man' s  vivacity,  however,  if  repressed  in  one 
way,  will  break  out  in  another,  and  Tonish 
now  eased  off  his  spleen  by  bestowing  volleys 
of  oaths  and  dry  blows  on  the  pack-horses. 
I  was  likely  to  be  no  gainer  in  the  end,  by  my 


74 


Crayon 


opposition  to  the  humors  of  these  varlets,  for 
after  a  time  Beatte,  who  had  lagged  behind, 
rode  up  to  the  head  of  the  line  to  resume  his 
station  as  a  guide,  and  I  had  the  vexation  to 
see  the  carcass  of  his  prize,  stripped  of  its 
skin,  and  looking  like  a  fat  sucking-pig, 
dangling  behind  his  saddle.  I  made  a  solemn 
vow,  however,  in  secret,  that  our  fire  should 
not  be  disgraced  by  the  cooking  of  that  pole 
cat. 


Cbaptet  f  Ufl. 

The  Crossing  of  the  Arkansas. 

WE  had  now  arrived  at  the  river,  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  above  the  junc 
tion  of  the  Red  Fork  ;  but  the  banks 
were  steep  and  crumbling,  and  the  current 
was  deep  and  rapid.  It  was  impossible,  there 
fore,  to  cross  at  this  place  ;  and  we  resumed 
our  painful  course  through  the  forest,  dispatch 
ing  Beatte  ahead,  in  search  of  a  fording  place. 
We  had  proceeded  about  a  mile  farther,  when 
he  rejoined  us,  bringing  intelligence  of  a  place 
hard  by,  where  the  river,  for  a  great  part  of 
its  breadth,  was  rendered  fordable  by  sand 
bars,  and  the  remainder  might  easily  be  swum 
by  the  horses. 

Here,  then,  we  made  a  halt.  Some  of  the 
rangers  set  to  work  vigorously  with  their  axes, 
felling  trees  on  the  edge  of  the  river,  where 
with  to  form  rafts  for  the  transportation  of 
their  baggage  and  camp  equipage.  Others 
75 


76  Cragon 

patrolled  the  banks  of  the  river  farther  up,  in 
hopes  of  finding  a  better  fording  place — being 
unwilling  to  risk  their  horses  in  the  deep 
channel. 

It  was  now  that  our  worthies,  Beatte  and 
Tonish,  had  an  opportunity  of  displaying 
their  Indian  adroitness  and  resource.  At  the 
Osage  village  which  we  had  passed  a  day  or 
two  before,  they  had  procured  a  dry  buffalo 
skin.  This  was  now  produced  ;  cords  were 
passed  through  a  number  of  small  eyelet-holes 
with  which  it  was  bordered,  and  it  was  drawn 
up,  until  it  formed  a  kind  of  deep  trough. 
Sticks  were  then  placed  athwart  it  on  the 
inside,  to  keep  it  in  shape  ;  our  camp  equipage 
and  a  part  of  our  baggage  was  placed  within, 
and  the  singular  bark  was  carried  down  the 
bank  and  set  afloat.  A  cord  was  attached  to 
the  prow,  which  Beatte  took  between  his  teeth, 
and  throwing  himself  into  the  water,  went 
ahead,  towing  the  bark  after  him  ;  while 
Tonish  followed  behind,  to  keep  it  steady  and 
to  propel  it.  Part  of  the  way  they  had  foot 
hold,  and  were  enabled  to  wade,  but  in  the 
main  current  they  were  obliged  to  swim.  The 
whole  way  they  whooped  and  yelled  in  the 
Indian  st3'le,  until  they  landed  safely  on  the 
opposite  shore. 

The  Commissioner  and  myself  were  so  well 


H  {Tour  on  tbe  ipcairica  77 

pleased  with  this  Indian  mode  of  ferriage, 
that  we  determined  to  trust  ourselves  in  the 
buffalo  hide.  Our  companions,  the  Count  and 
Mr.  Iy.,  had  proceeded  with  the  horses,  along 
the  river-bank,  in  search  of  a  ford  which  some 
of  the  rangers  had  discovered,  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  distant.  While  we  were  waiting 
for  the  return  of  our  ferry-man,  I  happened 
to  cast  my  eyes  upon  a  heap  of  luggage  under 
a  bush,  and  descried  the  sleek  carcass  of  the 
pole-cat,  snugly  trussed  up,  and  ready  for 
roasting  before  the  evening  fire.  I  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  plump  it  into  the  river, 
when  it  sunk  to  the  bottom  like  a  lump  of 
lead  ;  and  thus  our  lodge  was  relieved  from 
the  bad  odor  which  this  savory  viand  had 
threatened  to  bring  upon  it. 

Our  men  having  recrossed  with  their  cockle 
shell  bark,  it  was  drawn  on  shore,  half  filled 
with  saddles,  saddle-bags,  and  other  luggage, 
amounting  to  a  hundred  weight ;  and  being 
again  placed  in  the  water,  I  was  invited  to  take 
my  seat.  It  appeared  to  me  pretty  much  like 
the  embarkation  of  the  wise  men  of  Gotham, 
who  went  to  sea  in  a  bowl.  I  stepped  in,  how 
ever,  without  hesitation,  though  as  cautiously 
as  possible,  and  sat  down  on  top  of  the  luggage, 
the  margin  of  the  hide  sinking  to  within  a 
hand's  breadth  of  the  water's  edge.  Rifles, 


78  Crayon  flMscellatt£ 


fowling-pieces,  and  other  articles  of  small  bulk 
were  then  handed  in,  until  I  protested  against 
receiving  any  more  freight.  We  then  launched 
forth  upon  the  stream,  the  bark  being  towed 
as  before. 

It  was  with  a  sensation  half  serious,  half 
comic  that  I  found  myself  thus  afloat,  on  the 
skin  of  a  buffalo,  in  the  midst  of  a  wild  river, 
surrounded  by  wilderness,  and  towed  along  by 
a  half  savage,  whooping  and  yelling  like  a 
devil  incarnate.  To  please  the  vanity  of  little 
Tonish,  I  discharged  the  double-barrelled  gun, 
to  the  right  and  left,  when  in  the  centre  of  the 
stream.  The  report  echoed  along  the  woody 
shores,  and  was  answered  by  shouts  from  some 
of  the  rangers,  to  the  great  exultation  of  the  little 
Frenchman,  who  took  to  himself  the  whole 
glory  of  this  Indian  mode  of  navigation. 

Our  voyage  was  accomplished  happily  ;  the 
Commissioner  was  ferried  across  with  equal 
success,  and  all  our  effects  were  brought  over 
in  the  same  manner.  Nothing  could  equal  the 
vainglorious  vaporing  of  little  Tonish,  as  he 
strutted  about  the  shore,  and  exulted  in  his 
superior  skill  and  knowledge,  to  the  rangers. 
Beatte,  however,  kept  his  proud,  saturnine 
look,  without  a  smile.  He  had  a  vast  contempt 
for  the  ignorance  of  the  rangers,  and  felt  that 
he  had  been  undervalued  by  them.  His  only 


Gout  on  tbe  iprairies  79 


observation  was,  "  Dey  now  see  de  Indian  good 
for  something,  anyhow  !  " 

The  broad,  sandy  shore  where  we  had  landed 
was  intersected  by  innumerable  tracks  of  elk, 
deer,  bears,  raccoons,  turkeys,  and  water-fowl. 
The  river  scenery  at  this  place  was  beautifully 
diversified,  presenting  long,  shining  reaches, 
bordered  by  willows  and  cotton-wood  trees  ; 
rich  bottoms,  with  lofty  forests  ;  among  which 
towered  enormous  plane-trees,  and  the  distance 
was  closed  in  by  high  embowered  promontories. 
The  foliage  had  a  yellow  autumnal  tint,  which 
gave  to  the  sunny  landscape  the  golden  tone 
of  one  of  the  landscapes  of  Claude  L,orraine. 
There  was  animation  given  to  the  scene  by  a 
raft  of  logs  and  branches,  on  which  the  Captain 
and  his  prime  companion,  the  Doctor,  were 
ferrying  their  effects  across  the  stream  ;  and 
by  a  long  line  of  rangers  on  horseback,  fording 
the  river  obliquely,  along  a  series  of  sand-bars, 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  distant. 


Cbapter 

THE  CAMP  OF  THE 

Camp  Gossip— Pawnees  and  their  Habits— A  Hunter's 
Adventure — Horses  Found,  and  Men  Lost. 

BEING  joined  by  the  Captain  and  some  of 
the  rangers,  we  struck  into  the  woods 
for  about  half  a  mile,  and  then  entered 
a  wild,  rocky  dell,  bordered  by  two  lofty  ridges 
of  lime-stone,  which  narrowed  as  we  advanced, 
until  they  met  and  united,  making  almost  an 
angle.     Here  a  fine  spring  of  water  rose  among 
the  rocks,  and  fed  a  silver  rill  that  ran  the 
whole  length  of  the  dell,  freshening  the  grass 
with  which  it  was  carpeted. 

In  this  rocky  nook  we  encamped,  among  tall 
trees.  The  rangers  gradually  joined  us,  strag 
gling  through  the  forest  singly  or  in  groups  ; 
some  on  horseback,  some  on  foot,  driving  their 
horses  before  them,  heavily  laden  with  baggage, 
some  dripping  wet,  having  fallen  into  the  river  ; 
80 


B  tfour  on  tbe  prairies  81 

for  they  had  experienced  much  fatigue  and 
trouble  from  the  length  of  the  ford  and  the 
depth  and  rapidity  of  the  stream.  They  looked 
not  unlike  banditti  returning  with  their  plun 
der  ;  and  the  wild  dell  was  a  retreat  worthy  to 
receive  them.  The  effect  was  heightened  after 
dark,  when  the  light  of  the  fires  was  cast  upon 
rugged-looking  groups  of  men  and  horses ; 
with  baggage  tumbled  in  heaps,  rifles  piled 
against  the  trees,  and  saddles,  bridles,  and 
powder-horns  hanging  about  their  trunks. 

At  the  encampment  we  were  joined  by  the 
young  Count  and  his  companion,  and  the 
young  half-breed,  Antoine,  who  had  all  passed 
successfully  by  the  ford.  To  my  annoyance, 
however,  I  discovered  that  both  of  my  horses 
were  missing.  I  had  supposed  them  in  the 
charge  of  Antoine  ;  but  he,  with  characteristic 
carelessness,  had  paid  no  heed  to  them,  and 
they  had  probably  wandered  from  the  line  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  It  was  arranged 
that  Beatte  and  Antoine  should  recross  the 
river  at  an  early  hour  of  the  morning,  in  search 
of  them. 

A  fat  buck  and  a  number  of  wild  turkeys 
being  brought  into  the  camp,  we  managed, 
with  the  addition  of  a  cup  of  coffee,  to  make  a 
comfortable  supper  ;  after  which  I  repaired  to 
the  Captain's  lodge,  which  was  a  kind  of  coun- 

VOL    I.-  6 


82  Crayon  /BMscellanB 


cil-fire  and  gossiping-place  for  the  veterans  of 
the  camp. 

As  we  were  conversing  together,  we  observed, 
as  on  former  nights,  a  dusky,  red  glow  in  the 
west,  above  the  summits  of  the  surrounding 
cliffs.  It  was  again  attributed  to  Indian  fires 
on  the  prairies  ;  and  supposed  to  be  on  the 
western  side  of  the  Arkansas.  If  so,  it  was 
thought  they  must  be  made  by  some  party  of 
Pawnees,  as  the  Osage  hunters  seldom  ventured 
in  that  quarter.  Our  half-breeds,  however, 
pronounced  them  Osage  fires,  and  that  they 
were  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Arkansas. 

The  conversation  now  turned  upon  the  Paw 
nees,  into  whose  hunting  grounds  we  were 
about  entering.  There  is  always  some  wild 
untamed  tribe  of  Indians,  who  form  for  a  time 
the  terror  of  the  frontier,  and  about  whom  all 
kinds  of  fearful  stories  are  told.  Such,  at 
present,  was  the  case  with  the  Pawnees,  who 
rove  the  regions  between  the  Arkansas  and  the 
Red  River,  and  the  prairies  of  Texas.  They 
were  represented  as  admirable  horsemen,  and 
always  on  horseback, — mounted  on  fleet  and 
hardy  steeds,  the  wild  race  of  the  prairies. 
With  these  they  roam  the  great  plains  that  ex 
tend  about  the  Arkansas,  the  Red  River,  and 
through  Texas,  to  the  Rocky  Mountains ; 
sometimes  engaged  in  hunting  the  deer  and 


Gout  on  tbe  iprairfes  83 


buffalo,  sometimes  in  warlike  and  predatory 
expeditions  ;  for,  like  their  counterparts,  the 
sons  of  Ishmael,  their  hand  is  against  every 
one,  and  every  one's  hand  against  them.  Some 
of  them  have  no  fixed  habitation,  but  dwell  in 
tents  of  skins,  easily  packed  up  and  trans 
ported,  so  that  they  are  here  to-day,  and  away, 
no  one  knows  where,  to-morrow. 

One  of  the  veteran  hunters  gave  several 
anecdotes  of  their  mode  of  fighting.  L,uckless, 
according  to  his  account,  is  the  band  of  weary 
traders  or  hunters  descried  by  them,  in  the 
midst  of  a  prairie.  Sometimes  they  will  steal 
upon  them  by  stratagem,  hanging  with  one  leg 
over  the  saddle,  and  their  bodies  concealed,  — 
so  that  their  troop  at  a  distance  has  the 
appearance  of  a  gang  of  wild  horses.  When 
they  have  thus  gained  sufficiently  upon  the 
enemy,  they  will  suddenly  raise  themselves  in 
their  saddles,  and  come  like  a  rushing  blast, 
all  fluttering  with  feathers,  shaking  their  man 
tles,  brandishing  their  weapons,  and  making 
hideous  yells.  In  this  way  they  seek  to  strike 
a  panic  into  the  horses,  and  put  them  to  the 
scamper,  when  they  will  pursue  and  carry 
them  off  in  triumph. 

The  best  mode  of  defence,  according  to  this 
veteran  woodsman,  is  to  get  into  the  covert  of 
some  wood,  or  thicket  ;  or,  if  there  be  none  at 


84  dragon 


hand,  to  dismount,  tie  the  horses  firmly  head 
to  head  in  a  circle,  so  that  they  cannot  break 
away  and  scatter,  and  resort  to  the  shelter  of  a 
ravine,  or  make  a  hollow  in  the  sand,  where 
they  may  be  screened  from  the  shafts  of  the 
Pawnees.  The  latter  chiefly  use  the  bow  and 
arrow,  and  are  dexterous  archers, — circling 
round  and  round  their  enemy,  and  launching 
their  arrows  when  at  full  speed.  They  are 
chiefly  formidable  on  the  prairies,  where  they 
have  free  career  for  their  horses,  and  no  trees 
to  turn  aside  their  arrows.  They  will  rarely 
follow  a  flying  enemy  into  the  forest. 

Several  anecdotes,  also,  were  given,  of  the 
secrecy  and  caution  with  which  they  will  follow, 
and  hang  about  the  camp  of  an  enemy,  seeking 
a  favorable  moment  for  plunder  or  attack. 

' '  We  must  now  begin  to  keep  a  sharp  look 
out,"  said  the  Captain.  "  I  must  issue  written 
orders,  that  no  man  shall  hunt  without  leave, 
or  fire  off  a  gun,  on  pain  of  riding  a  wooden 
horse  with  a  sharp  back.  I  have  a  wild  crew 
of  young  fellows  unaccustomed  to  frontier 
service.  It  will  be  difficult  to  teach  them 
caution.  We  are  now  in  the  land  of  a  silent, 
watchful,  crafty  people,  who,  when  we  least 
suspect  it,  may  be  around  us,  spying  on  all  our 
movements,  and  ready  to  pounce  upon  all 
stragglers." 


B  vlour  on  tbe  prairies  85 

1 '  How  will  you  be  able  to  keep  your  men 
from  firing,  if  they  see  game  while  strolling 
round  the  camp  ?  ' '  asked  one  of  the  rangers. 

' '  They  must  not  take  their  guns  with  them 
unless  they  are  on  duty,  or  have  permission." 

1  'Ah,  Captain,"  cried  the  ranger,  "  that  will 
never  do  for  me.  Where  I  go,  my  rifle  goes. 
I  never  like  to  leave  it  behind  ;  it 's  like  a  part 
of  myself.  There  's  no  one  will  take  such  care 
of  it  as  I,  and  there  's  nothing  will  take  such 
care  of  me  as  my  rifle. ' ' 

"There's  truth  in  all  that,"  said  the  Cap 
tain,  touched  by  a  true  hunter's  sympathy. 
"I've  had  my  rifle  pretty  nigh  as  long  as  I 
have  had  my  wife,  and  a  faithful  friend  it  has 
been  to  me. ' ' 

Here  the  Doctor,  who  is  as  keen  a  hunter  as 
the  Captain,  joined  in  the  conversation  : — "  A 
neighbor  of  mine  says,  next  to  my  rifle,  I  'd  as 
leave  lend  you  my  wife. ' ' 

"  There  's  few,"  observed  the  Captain,  "  that 
take  care  of  their  rifles  as  they  ought  to  be 
taken  care  of. ' ' 

1 '  Or  of  their  wives  either,  * '  replied  the  Doctor, 
with  a  wink. 

"  That 's  a  fact,"  rejoined  the  Captain. 

Word  was  now  brought  that  a  party  of  four 
rangers,  headed  by  "  Old  Ryan,"  were  miss 
ing.  They  had  separated  from  the  main  body, 


86  Crayon  flM0cellan£ 


on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  when  search 
ing  for  a  ford,  and  had  straggled  off,  nobody 
knew  whither.  Many  conjectures  were  made 
about  them,  and  some  apprehensions  expressed 
for  their  safety. 

"  I  should  send  to  look  after  them,"  said  the 
Captain,  "  but  Old  Ryan  is  with  them,  and  he 
knows  how  to  take  care  of  himself  and  of 
them  too.  If  it  were  not  for  him,  I  would  not 
give  much  for  the  rest ;  but  he  is  as  much  at 
home  in  the  woods  or  on  a  prairie  as  he  would 
be  in  his  own  farm-yard.  He's  never  lost, 
wherever  he  is.  There 's  a  good  gang  of  them 
to  stand  by  one  another, — four  to  watch,  and 
one  to  take  care  of  the  fire. ' ' 

"  It 's  a  dismal  thing  to  get  lost  at  night  in  a 
strange  and  wild  country,"  said  one  of  the 
younger  rangers. 

"  Not  if  you  have  one  or  two  in  company," 
said  an  older  one.  "  For  my  part,  I  could  feel 
as  cheerful  in  this  hollow  as  in  my  own  home, 
if  I  had  but  one  comrade  to  take  turns  to 
watch  and  keep  the  fire  going.  I  could  lie 
here  for  hours,  and  gaze  up  to  that  blazing  star 
there,  that  seems  to  look  down  into  the  camp 
as  if  it  were  keeping  guard  over  it." 

"  Aye,  the  stars  are  a  kind  of  company  to 
one,  when  you  have  to  keep  watch  alone. 
That 's  a  cheerful  star,  too,  somehow  ;  that 's 


a  Gour  on  tbe  prairies  87 

the  evening  star,  the  planet  Venus  they  call  it, 
I  think." 

11  If  that  's  the  planet  Venus,"  said  one  of 
the  council,  who,  I  believe,  was  the  psalm- 
singing  schoolmaster,  "  it  bodes  us  no  good ; 
for  I  recollect  reading  in  some  book  that  the 
Pawnees  worship  that  star,  and  sacrifice  their 
prisoners  to  it.  So  I  should  not  feel  the  better 
for  the  sight  of  that  star  in  this  part  of  the 
country." 

"Well,"  said  the  sergeant,  a  thorough-bred 
woodsman,  "star  or  no  star,  I  have  passed 
many  a  night  alone  in  a  wilder  place  than  this, 
and  slept  sound  too,  I  '11  warrant  you.  Once, 
however,  I  had  rather  an  uneasy  time  of  it.  I 
was  belated  in  passing  through  a  tract  of  wood, 
near  the  Tombigbee  River  ;  so  I  struck  a  light, 
made  a  fire,  and  turned  my  horse  loose,  while 
I  stretched  myself  to  sleep.  By-and-by,  I 
heard  the  wolves  howl.  My  horse  came  crowd 
ing  near  me  for  protection,  for  he  was  terribly 
frightened.  I  drove  him  off,  but  he  returned, 
and  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  stood  looking 
at  me  and  at  the  fire,  and  dozing,  and  nodding, 
and  tottering  on  his  fore-feet,  for  he  was  power 
ful  tired.  After  a  while,  I  heard  a  strange, 
dismal  cry.  I  thought  at  first  it  might  be  an 
owl.  I  heard  it  again,  and  then  I  knew  it  was 
not  an  owl,  but  must  be  a  panther.  I  felt 


Crayon 


rather  awkward,  for  I  had  no  weapon  but  a 
double-bladed  penknife.  I  however  prepared 
for  defence  in  the  best  way  I  could,  and  piled 
up  small  brands  from  the  fire,  to  pepper 
him  with,  should  he  come  nigh.  The  company 
of  my  horse  now  seemed  a  comfort  to  me  ;  the 
poor  creature  laid  down  beside  me  and  soon 
fell  asleep,  being  so  tired.  I  kept  watch,  and 
nodded  and  dozed,  and  started  awake,  and 
looked  round,  expecting  to  see  the  glaring  eyes 
of  the  panther  close  upon  me  ;  but,  somehow 
or  other,  fatigue  got  the  better  of  me,  and  I 
fell  asleep  outright.  In  the  morning  I  found 
the  tracks  of  a  panther  within  sixty  paces. 
They  were  as  large  as  my  two  fists.  He  had 
evidently  been  walking  backwards  and  for 
wards,  trying  to  make  up  his  mind  to  attack 
me  ;  but  luckily,  he  had  not  courage." 

Oct.  1  6.  —  I  awoke  before  daybreak.  The 
moon  was  shining  feebly  down  into  the  glen, 
from  among  light  drifting  clouds  ;  the  camp- 
fires  were  nearly  burnt  out,  and  the  men  lying 
about  them,  wrapped  in  blankets.  With  the 
first  streak  of  day,  our  huntsman,  Beatte,  with 
Antoine,  the  young  half-breed,  set  off  to  re- 
cross  the  river,  in  search  of  the  stray  horses, 
in  company  with  several  rangers  who  had  left 
their  rifles  on  the  opposite  shore.  As  the  ford 
was  deep,  and  they  were  obliged  to  cross  in  a 


Gour  on  tbe  iprafrfes  89 


diagonal  line,  against  a  rapid  current,  they  had 
to  be  mounted  on  the  tallest  and  strongest 
horses. 

By  eight  o'clock,  Beatte  returned.  He  had 
found  the  horses,  but  had  lost  Antoine.  The 
latter,  he  said,  was  a  boy,  a  greenhorn,  that 
knew  nothing  of  the  woods.  He  had  wandered 
out  of  sight  of  him,  and  got  lost.  However, 
there  were  plenty  more  for  him  to  fall  in  com 
pany  with,  as  some  of  the  rangers  had  gone 
astray  also,  and  old  Ryan  and  his  party  had 
not  returned. 

We  waited  until  the  morning  was  somewhat 
advanced,  in  hopes  of  being  rejoined  by  the 
stragglers,  but  they  did  not  make  their  appear 
ance.  The  Captain  observed  that  the  Indians 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  were  all  well 
disposed  to  the  whites  ;  so  that  no  serious 
apprehensions  need  be  entertained  for  the  safety 
of  the  missing.  The  greatest  danger  was,  that 
their  horses  might  be  stolen  in  the  night  by 
straggling  Osages.  He  determined,  therefore, 
to  proceed,  leaving  a  rear-guard  in  the  camp 
to  await  their  arrival. 

I  sat  on  a  rock  that  overhung  the  spring  at 
the  upper  part  of  the  dell,  and  amused  myself 
by  watching  the  changing  scene  before  me. 
First,  the  preparations  for  departure.  Horses 
driven  in  from  the  purlieus  of  the  camp  ;  rang- 


go  Crayon 


ers  riding  about  among  rocks  and  bushes  in 
quest  of  others  that  had  strayed  to  a  distance  ; 
the  bustle  of  packing  up  camp-equipage,  and 
the  clamor  after  kettles  and  frying-pans  bor 
rowed  by  one  mess  from  another,  mixed  up 
with  oaths  and  exclamations  at  restive  horses, 
or  others  that  had  wandered  away  to  graze 
after  being  packed  : — among  which  the  voice  of 
our  little  Frenchman,  Tonish,  was  particularly 
to  be  distinguished. 

The  bugle  sounded  the  signal  to  mount  and 
march.  The  troop  filed  off  in  irregular  line 
down  the  glen,  and  through  the  open  forest, 
winding  and  gradually  disappearing  among  the 
trees,  though  the  clamor  of  voices  and  the 
notes  of  the  bugle  could  be  heard  for  some  time 
afterwards.  The  rear-guard  remained  under 
the  trees  in  the  lower  part  of  the  dell :  some  on 
horseback,  with  their  rifles  on  their  shoulders  ; 
others  seated  by  the  fire  or  lying  on  the 
ground,  gossiping  in  a  low,  lazy  tone  of  voice, 
their  horses  unsaddled,  standing  and  dozing 
around  ;  while  one  of  the  rangers,  profiting  by 
this  interval  of  leisure,  was  shaving  himself 
before  a  pocket-mirror  stuck  against  the  trunk 
of  a  tree. 

The  clamor  of  voices  and  the  notes  of  the 
bugle  at  length  died  away,  and  the  glen  re 
lapsed  into  quiet  and  silence,  broken  occasion- 


B  (Lout  on  tbe  prairies  91 

ally  by  the  low  murmuring  tone  of  the  group 
around  the  fire,  or  the  pensive  whistle  of  some 
laggard  among  the  trees ;  or  the  rustling  of 
the  yellow  leaves,  which  the  lightest  breath  of 
air  brought  down  in  wavering  showers,  a  sign 
of  the  departing  glories  of  the  year. 


Cbaptet  £ TO. 

Deer-shooting—Life  on  the  Prairies— Beautiful  En- 

campment— Hunter's  Luck— Anecdotes  of  the 

Delawares  and  their  Superstitions. 

HAVING  passed  through  the  skirt  of 
woodland  bordering  the  river,  we  as 
cended  the  hills,  taking  a  westerly 
course  through  an  undulating  country  of  "  oak 
openings,"  where  the  eye  stretched  over  wide 
tracts  of  hill  and  dale,  diversified  by  forests, 
groves,  and  clumps  of  trees.  As  we  were  pro 
ceeding  at  a  slow  pace,  those  who  were  at  the 
head  of  the  line  descried  four  deer  grazing  on 
a  grassy  slope  about  half  a  mile  distant.  They 
apparently  had  not  perceived  our  approach,  and 
continued  to  graze  in  perfect  tranquillity.  A 
young  ranger  obtained  permission  from  the 
Captain  to  go  in  pursuit  of  them,  and  the 
troop  halted  in  lengthened  line,  watching  him 
in  silence.  Walking  his  horse  slowly  and 
cautiously,  he  made  a  circuit  until  a  screen  of 
92 


£our  on  tbe  prairies  93 


wood  intervened  between  him  and  the  deer. 
Dismounting  then,  he  left  his  horse  among  the 
trees,  and  creeping  round  a  knoll,  was  hidden 
from  our  view.  We  now  kept  our  eyes  intently 
fixed  on  the  deer,  which  continued  grazing, 
unconscious  of  their  danger.  Presently  there 
was  the  sharp  report  of  a  rifle  ;  a  fine  buck 
made  a  convulsive  bound  and  fell  to  the  earth  ; 
his  companions  scampered  off.  Immediately 
our  whole  line  of  march  was  broken  ;  there 
was  a  helter-skelter  galloping  of  the  youngsters 
of  the  troop,  eager  to  get  a  shot  at  the  fugi 
tives  ;  and  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  per 
sonages  in  the  chase  was  our  little  Frenchman 
Tonish  on  his  silver-gray,  having  abandoned 
his  pack-horses  at  the  first  sight  of  the  deer. 
It  was  some  time  before  our  scattered  forces 
could  be  recalled  by  the  bugle,  and  our  march 
resumed. 

Two  or  three  times  in  the  course  of  the  day 
we  were  interrupted  by  hurry-scurry  scenes  of 
the  kind.  The  young  men  of  the  troop  were 
full  of  excitement  on  entering  an  unexplored 
country  abounding  in  game,  and  they  were  too 
little  accustomed  to  discipline  or  restraint  to  be 
kept  in  order.  No  one,  however,  was  more 
unmanageable  than  Tonish.  Having  an  in 
tense  conceit  of  his  skill  as  a  hunter,  and  an 
irresistible  passion  for  display,  he  was  continu- 


94  Cragon 


ally  sallying  forth,  like  an  ill-broken  hound, 
whenever  any  game  was  started,  and  had  as 
often  to  be  whipped  back. 

At  length  his  curiosity  got  a  salutary  check. 
A  fat  doe  came  bounding  along  in  full  view  of 
the  whole  line.  Tonish  dismounted,  levelled 
his  rifle,  and  had  a  fair  shot.  The  doe  kept 
on.  He  sprang  upon  his  horse,  stood  up  on 
the  saddle  like  a  posture-master,  and  continued 
gazing  after  the  animal  as  if  certain  to  see  it 
fall.  The  doe,  however,  kept  on  its  way  re 
joicing  ;  a  laugh  broke  out  along  the  line,  the 
little  Frenchman  slipped  quietly  into  his  sad 
dle,  began  to  belabor  and  blaspheme  the  wan 
dering  pack-horses,  as  if  they  had  been  to 
blame,  and  for  some  time  we  were  relieved 
from  his  vaunting  and  vaporing. 

In  one  place  of  our  march  we  came  to  the 
remains  of  an  old  Indian  encampment,  on  the 
banks  of  a  fine  stream,  with  the  moss-grown 
skulls  of  deer  lying  here  and  there  about  it. 
As  we  were  in  the  Pawnee  country,  it  was 
supposed,  of  course,  to  have  been  a  camp  of 
those  formidable  rovers  ;  the  Doctor,  however, 
after  considering  the  shape  and  disposition  of 
the  lodges,  pronounced  it  the  camp  of  some 
bold  Delawares,  who  had  probably  made  a  brief 
and  dashing  excursion  into  these  dangerous 
hunting  grounds. 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  95 


Having  proceeded  some  distance  farther,  we 
observed  a  couple  of  figures  on  horseback, 
slowly  moving  parallel  to  us  along  the  edge 
of  a  naked  hill  about  two  miles  distant,  and 
apparently  reconnoitring  us.  There  was  a 
halt,  and  much  gazing  and  conjecturing. 
Were  they  Indians  ?  If  Indians,  were  they 
Pawnees  ?  There  is  something  exciting  to  the 
imagination  and  stirring  to  the  feelings,  while 
traversing  these  hostile  plains,  in  seeing  a 
horseman  prowling  along  the  horizon.  It  is 
like  descrying  a  sail  at  sea  in  time  of  war, 
when  it  may  be  either  a  privateer  or  a  pirate. 
Our  conjectures  were  soon  set  at  rest  by  recon 
noitring  the  two  horsemen  through  a  small 
spy-glass,  when  they  proved  to  be  two  of  the 
men  we  had  left  at  the  camp,  who  had  set  out 
to  rejoin  us,  and  had  wandered  from  the  track. 

Our  march  this  day  was  animating  and  de 
lightful.  We  were  in  a  region  of  adventure  ; 
breaking  our  way  through  a  country  hitherto 
untrodden  by  white  men,  excepting  perchance 
by  some  solitary  trapper.  The  weather  was  in 
its  perfection,  temperate,  genial,  and  enliven 
ing  ;  a  deep  blue  sky  with  a  few  light  feathery 
clouds,  an  atmosphere  of  perfect  transparency, 
an  air  pure  and  bland,  and  a  glorious  country 
spreading  out  far  and  wide  in  the  golden  sun 
shine  of  an  autumnal  day  ;  but  all  silent,  lifeless, 


96  Gragon 


without  a  human  habitation,  and  apparently 
without  a  human  inhabitant !  It  was  as  if  a 
ban  hung  over  this  fair  but  fated  region.  The 
very  Indians  dared  not  abide  here,  but  made  it  a 
mere  scene  of  perilous  enterprise,  to  hunt  for  a 
few  days,  and  then  away. 

After  a  march  of  about  fifteen  miles  west  we 
encamped  in  a  beautiful  peninsula,  made  by 
the  windings  and  doublings  of  a  deep,  clear, 
and  almost  motionless  brook,  and  covered  by 
an  open  grove  of  lofty  and  magnificent  trees. 
Several  hunters  immediately  started  forth  in 
quest  of  game  before  the  noise  of  the  camp 
should  frighten  it  from  the  vicinity.  Our  man, 
Beatte,  also  took  his  rifle  and  went  forth  alone, 
in  a  different  course  from  the  rest. 

For  my  own  part,  I  laid  on  the  grass  under 
the  trees,  and  built  castles  in  the  clouds,  and 
indulged  in  the  very  luxury  of  rural  repose. 
Indeed  I  can  scarcely  conceive  a  kind  of  life 
more  calculated  to  put  both  mind  and  body  in 
a  healthful  tone.  A  morning's  ride  of  several 
hours  diversified  by  hunting  incidents  ;  an 
encampment  in  the  afternoon  under  some  noble 
grove  on  the  borders  of  a  stream  ;  an  evening 
banquet  of  venison,  fresh  killed,  roasted,  or 
broiled  on  the  coals  ;  turkeys  just  from  the 
thickets,  and  wild  honey  from  the  trees  ;  and 
all  relished  with  an  appetite  unknown  to  the 


tlour  on  tbc  prairies  97 


gourmets  of  the  cities.  And  at  night  —  such 
sweet  sleeping  in  the  open  air,  or  waking  and 
gazing  at  the  moon  and  stars  shining  between 
the  trees  ! 

On  the  present  occasion,  however,  we  had 
not  much  reason  to  boast  of  our  larder.  But 
one  deer  had  been  killed  during  the  day,  and 
none  of  that  had  reached  our  lodge.  We  were 
fain,  therefore,  to  stay  our  keen  appetites  by 
some  scraps  of  turkey  brought  from  the  last 
encampment,  eked  out  with  a  slice  or  two  of 
salt  pork.  This  scarcity,  however,  did  not 
continue  long.  Before  dark,  a  young  hunter 
returned  well  laden  with  spoil.  He  had  shot  a 
deer,  cut  it  up  in  an  artist-like  style,  and,  put 
ting  the  meat  in  a  kind  of  sack  made  of  the 
hide,  had  slung  it  across  his  shoulder  and 
trudged  with  it  to  camp. 

Not  long  after,  Beatte  made  his  appearance 
with  a  fat  doe  across  his  horse.  It  was  the 
first  game  he  had  brought  in,  and  I  was  glad 
to  see  him  with  a  trophy  that  might  efface  the 
memory  of  the  pole-cat.  He  laid  the  carcass 
down  by  our  fire  without  saying  a  word,  and 
then  turned  to  unsaddle  his  horse  ;  nor  could 
any  questions  from  us  about  his  hunting  draw 
from  him  more  than  laconic  replies.  If  Beatte, 
however,  observed  this  Indian  taciturnity  about 
what  he  had  done,  Tonish  made  up  for  it  by 


98  Crayon 


boasting  of  what  he  meant  to  do.  Now  that 
we  were  in  a  good  hunting  country,  he  meant 
to  take  to  the  field,  and,  if  we  would  take  his 
word  for  it,  our  lodge  would  henceforth  be 
overwhelmed  with  game.  Luckily  his  talking 
did  not  prevent  his  working ;  the  doe  was 
skilfully  dissected,  several  fat  ribs  roasted 
before  the  fire,  the  coffee-kettle  replenished, 
and  in  a  little  while  we  were  enabled  to  indem 
nify  ourselves  luxuriously  for  our  late  meagre 
repast. 

The  Captain  did  not  return  until  late,  and 
he  returned  empty  handed.  He  had  been  in 
pursuit  of  his  usual  game,  the  deer,  when  he 
came  upon  the  tracks  of  a  gang  of  about  sixty 
elk.  Having  never  killed  an  animal  of  the 
kind,  and  the  elk  being  at  this  moment  an 
object  of  ambition  among  all  the  veteran 
hunters  of  the  camp,  he  abandoned  his  pursuit 
of  the  deer,  and  followed  the  newly  discovered 
track.  After  some  time  he  came  in  sight  of 
the  elk,  and  had  several  fair  chances  of  a  shot, 
but  was  anxious  to  bring  down  a  large  buck 
which  kept  in  the  advance.  Finding  at  length 
there  was  danger  of  the  whole  gang  escaping 
him,  he  fired  at  a  doe.  The  shot  took  effect, 
but  the  animal  had  sufficient  strength  to  keep 
on  for  a  time  with  its  companions.  From  the 
tracks  of  blood  he  felt  confident  it  was  mortally 


Cour  on  tbe  prairies  99 


wounded,  but  evening  coming  on,  he  could  not 
keep  the  trail,  and  had  to  give  up  the  search 
until  morning. 

Old  Ryan  and  his  little  band  had  not  yet 
rejoined  us,  neither  had  our  young  half-breed 
Antoine  made  his  appearance.  It  was  deter 
mined,  therefore,  to  remain  at  our  encampment 
for  the  following  day,  to  give  time  for  all  strag 
glers  to  arrive. 

The  conversation  this  evening,  among  the 
old  huntsmen,  turned  upon  the  Delaware  tribe, 
one  of  whose  encampments  we  had  passed  in 
the  course  of  the  day  ;  and  anecdotes  were 
given  of  their  prowess  in  war  and  dexterity  in 
hunting.  They  used  to  be  deadly  foes  of  the 
Osages,  who  stood  in  great  awe  of  their  des 
perate  valor,  though  they  were  apt  to  attribute 
it  to  a  whimsical  cause.  *  '  Look  at  the  Dela- 
wares,"  would  they  say,  "dey  got  short  leg  — 
no  can  run  —  must  stand  and  fight  a  great 
heap.  '  '  In  fact,  the  Dela  wares  are  rather  short- 
legged,  while  the  Osages  are  remarkable  for 
length  of  limb. 

The  expeditions  of  the  Delawares,  whether  of 
war  or  hunting,  are  wide  and  fearless  ;  a  small 
band  will  penetrate  far  into  these  dangerous 
and  hostile  wilds,  and  will  push  their  encamp 
ments  even  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  This 
daring  temper  may  be  in  some  measure  encour- 


ioo  Crayon 


aged  by  one  of  the  superstitions  of  their  creed. 
They  believe  that  a  guardian  spirit,  in  the  form 
of  a  great  eagle,  watches  over  them,  hovering 
in  the  sky,  far  out  of  sight.  Sometimes  when 
well  pleased  with  them,  he  wheels  down  into 
the  lower  regions,  and  may  be  seen  circling 
with  wide-spread  wings  against  the  white 
clouds;  at  such  times  the  seasons  are  pro 
pitious,  the  corn  grows  finely,  and  they  have 
great  success  in  hunting.  Sometimes,  however, 
he  is  angry,  and  then  he  vents  his  rage  in  the 
thunder,  which  is  his  voice,  and  the  lightning, 
which  is  the  flashing  of  his  eye,  and  strikes 
dead  the  object  of  his  displeasure. 

The  Delawares  make  sacrifices  to  this  spirit, 
who  occasionally  lets  drop  a  feather  from  his 
wing  in  token  of  satisfaction.  These  feathers 
render  the  wearer  invisible  and  invulnerable. 
Indeed,  the  Indians  generally  consider  the 
feathers  of  the  eagle  possessed  of  occult  and 
sovereign  virtues. 

At  one  time  a  party  of  the  Delawares,  in  the 
course  of  a  bold  excursion  into  the  Pawnee 
hunting  grounds,  were  surrounded  on  one  of 
the  great  plains,  and  nearly  destroyed.  The 
remnant  took  refuge  on  the  summit  of  one  of 
those  isolated  and  conical  hills  which  rise  al 
most  like  artificial  mounds,  from  the  midst  of 
the  prairies.  Here  the  chief  warrior,  driven 


a  Sour  on  tbe  prairies 


101 


almost  to  despair,  sacrificed  his  horse  to  the 
tutelar  spirit.  Suddenly  an  enormous  eagle, 
rushing  down  from  the  sky,  bore  off  the  victim 
in  his  talons,  and  mounting  into  the  air, 
dropped  a  quill-feather  from  his  wing.  The 
chief  caught  it  up  with  joy,  bound  it  to  his 
forehead,  and,  leading  his  followers  down  the 
hill,  cut  his  way  through  the  enemy  with  great 
slaughter,  and  without  any  one  of  his  party 
receiving  a  wound. 


Cbapter  f  ID. 

The  Search  for  the  Elk— Pawnee  Stories. 

WITH  the  morning  dawn,   the   prime 
hunters  of  the  camp  were  all  on  the 
alert,  and  set  off  in  different  direc 
tions,  to  beat  up  the  country  for  game.     The 
Captain's  brother,  Sergeant  Bean,  was  among 
the  first,  and  returned  before  breakfast  with 
success,  having  killed  a  fat  doe  almost  within 
the  purlieus  of  the  camp. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  the  Captain 
mounted  his  horse,  to  go  in  quest  of  the  elk 
which  he  had  wounded  on  the  preceding  even 
ing  ;  and  which  he  was  persuaded,  had  received 
its  death- wound.  I  determined  to  join  him  in 
the  search,  and  we  accordingly  sallied  forth 
together,  accompanied  also  by  his  brother,  the 
sergeant,  and  a  lieutenant.  Two  rangers  fol 
lowed  on  foot,  to  bring  home  the  carcass  of  the 
doe  which  the  sergeant  had  killed.  We  had 
not  ridden  far  when  we  came  to  where  it  lay, 
on  the  side  of  a  hill,  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful 

102 


tTour  on  tbe  prairies  103 


woodland  scene.  The  two  rangers  immediately 
fell  to  work,  with  true  hunters'  skill  to  dis 
member  it,  and  prepare  it  for  transportation  to 
the  camp,  while  we  continued  on  our  course. 
We  passed  along  sloping  hill-sides,  among 
skirts  of  thicket  and  scattered  forest  trees, 
until  we  came  to  a  place  where  the  long  herb 
age  was  pressed  down  with  numerous  elk  beds. 
Here  the  captain  had  first  roused  the  gang  of 
elks  ;  and,  after  looking  about  diligently  for  a 
little  while,  he  pointed  out  their  "trail,"  the 
footprints  of  which  were  as  large  as  those  of 
horned  cattle.  He  now  put  himself  upon  the 
track,  and  went  quietly  forward,  the  rest  of  us 
following  him  in  Indian  file.  At  length  he 
halted  at  the  place  where  the  elk  had  been 
shot  at.  Spots  of  blood  on  the  surrounding 
herbage  showed  that  the  shot  had  been  effec 
tive.  The  wounded  animal  had  evidently  kept 
for  some  distance  with  the  rest  of  the  herd,  as 
could  be  seen  by  sprinklings  of  blood,  here  and 
there,  on  the  shrubs  and  weeds  bordering  the 
trail.  These  at  length  suddenly  disappeared. 
"Somewhere  hereabout,"  said  the  Captain, 
"  the  elk  must  have  turned  off  from  the  gang. 
Whenever  they  feel  themselves  mortally 
wounded,  they  will  turn  aside  and  seek  some 
out-of-the-way  place  to  die  alone." 
There  was  something  in  this  picture  of  the 


i<>4  dragon 


last  moments  of  a  wounded  deer  to  touch  the 
sympathies  of  one  not  hardened  to  the  gentle 
disports  of  the  chase ;  such  sympathies,  how 
ever,  are  but  transient.  Man  is  naturally  an 
animal  of  prey  ;  and,  however  changed  by  civi 
lization,  will  readily  relapse  into  his  instinct 
for  destruction.  I  found  my  ravenous  and 
sanguinary  propensities  daily  growing  stronger 
upon  the  prairies. 

After  looking  about  for  a  little  while,  the 
Captain  succeeded  in  finding  the  separate  trail 
of  the  wounded  elk,  which  turned  off  almost 
at  right  angles  from  that  of  the  herd,  and  en 
tered  an  open  forest  of  scattered  trees.  The 
traces  of  blood  became  more  faint  and  rare,  and 
occurred  at  greater  distances  -,  at  length  they 
ceased  altogether,  and  the  ground  was  so  hard, 
and  the  herbage  so  much  parched  and  with 
ered,  that  the  footprints  of  the  animal  could  no 
longer  be  perceived. 

"  The  elk  must  lie  somewhere  in  this  neigh 
borhood,"  said  the  Captain,  "  as  you  may 
know  by  those  turkey-buzzards  wheeling  about 
in  the  air ;  for  they  always  hover  in  that  way 
above  some  carcass.  However,  the  dead  elk 
cannot  get  away,  so  let  us  follow  the  trail  of 
the  living  ones  :  they  may  have  halted  at  no 
great  distance,  and  we  may  find  them  grazing, 
and  get  another  crack  at  them." 


Eour  on  tbe  prairies  105 


We  accordingly  returned,  and  resumed  the 
trail  of  the  elks,  which  led  us  a  straggling 
course  over  hill  and  dale,  covered  with  scat 
tered  oaks.  Every  now  and  then  we  would 
catch  a  glimpse  of  a  deer  bounding  away  across 
some  glade  of  the  forest,  but  the  captain  was 
not  to  be  diverted  from  his  elk  hunt  by  such 
inferior  game.  A  large  flock  of  wild  turkeys, 
too,  were  roused  by  the  trampling  of  our 
horses  ;  some  scampered  off  as  fast  as  their 
long  legs  could  carry  them  ;  others  fluttered 
up  into  the  trees,  where  they  remained  with 
outstretched  necks,  gazing  at  us.  The  Cap 
tain  would  not  allow  a  rifle  to  be  discharged  at 
them,  lest  it  should  alarm  the  elk,  which  he 
hoped  to  find  in  the  vicinity.  At  length  we 
came  to  where  the  forest  ended  in  a  steep 
bank,  and  the  Red  Fork  wound  its  way  below 
us,  between  broad  sandy  shores.  The  trail 
descended  the  bank,  and  we  could  trace  it,  with 
our  eyes,  across  the  level  sands,  until  it  termi 
nated  in  the  river,  which,  it  was  evident,  the 
gang  had  forded  on  the  preceding  evening. 

11  It  is  needless  to  follow  on  any  farther," 
said  the  Captain.  '  *  The  elk  must  have  been 
much  frightened,  and,  after  crossing  the  river, 
may  have  kept  on  for  twenty  miles  without 
stopping." 

Our  little  party  now  divided,  the  lieutenant 


106  dragon  /BMscellans 


and  sergeant  making  a  circuit  in  quest  of  game, 
and  the  Captain  and  myself  taking  the  direc 
tion  of  the  camp.  On  our  way,  we  came  to  a 
buffalo  track  more  than  a  year  old.  It  was 
not  wider  than  an  ordinary  footpath,  and  worn 
deep  into  the  soil ;  for  these  animals  follow 
each  other  in  single  file.  Shortly  afterwards, 
we  met  two  rangers  on  foot,  hunting.  They 
had  wounded  an  elk,  but  he  had  escaped  ;  and 
in  pursuing  him,  had  found  the  one  shot  by 
the  Captain  on  the  preceding  evening.  They 
turned  back  and  conducted  us  to  it.  It  was  a 
noble  animal,  as  large  as  a  yearling  heifer,  and 
lay  in  an  open  part  of  the  forest,  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  distant  from  the  place  where  it  had 
been  shot.  The  turkey-buzzards  which  we 
had  previously  noticed  were  wheeling  in  the 
air  above  it.  The  observation  of  the  Captain 
seemed  verified.  The  poor  animal,  as  life  was 
ebbing  away,  had  apparently  abandoned  its  un 
hurt  companions,  and  turned  aside  to  die  alone. 
The  Captain  and  the  two  rangers  forthwith 
fell  to  work,  with  their  hunting  knives,  to  flay 
and  cut  up  the  carcass.  It  was  already  tainted 
on  the  inside,  but  ample  collips  were  cut  from 
the  ribs  and  haunches,  and  laid  in  a  heap  on 
the  outstretched  hide.  Holes  were  then  cut 
along  the  border  of  the  hide,  raw  thongs  were 
passed  through  them,  and  the  whole  drawn  up 


tTour  on  tbe  U>rairie6  107 


like  a  sack,  which  was  swung  behind  the  Cap 
tain's  saddle.  All  this  while  the  turkey-buz 
zards  were  soaring  overhead,  waiting  for  our 
departure,  to  swoop  down  and  banquet  on  the 
carcass. 

The  wreck  of  the  poor  elk  being  thus  dis 
mantled,  the  Captain  and  myself  mounted  our 
horses,  and  jogged  back  to  the  camp,  while 
the  two  rangers  resumed  their  hunting. 

On  reaching  the  camp,  I  found  there  our 
young  half-breed  Antoine.  After  separating 
from  Beatte,  in  the  search  after  the  stray  horses 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Arkansas,  he  had  fal 
len  upon  a  wrong  track,  which  he  followed 
for  several  miles,  when  he  overtook  old  Ryan 
and  his  party,  and  found  he  had  been  following 
their  traces. 

They  all  forded  the  Arkansas  about  eight 
miles  above  our  crossing  place,  and  found  their 
way  to  our  late  encampment  in  the  glen,  where 
the  rear-guard  we  had  left  behind  was  waiting 
for  them.  Antoine,  being  well  mounted,  and 
somewhat  impatient  to  rejoin  us,  had  pushed 
on  alone,  following  our  trail,  to  our  present 
encampment,  and  bringing  the  carcass  of  a 
young  bear  which  he  had  killed. 

Our  camp,  during  the  residue  of  the  day, 
presented  a  mingled  picture  of  bustle  and  re 
pose.  Some  of  the  men  were  busy  round  the 


io8  Crayon 


fires,  jerking  and  roasting  venison  and  bear's 
meat,  to  be  packed  up  as  a  future  supply. 
Some  were  stretching  and  dressing  the  skins 
of  the  animals  they  had  killed  ;  others  were 
washing  their  clothes  in  the  brook,  and  hang 
ing  them  on  the  bushes  to  dry  ;  while  many 
were  lying  on  the  grass,  and  lazily  gossiping 
in  the  shade.  Every  now  and  then  a  hunter 
would  return,  on  horseback  or  on  foot,  laden 
with  game,  or  empty-handed.  Those  who 
brought  home  any  spoil,  deposited  it  at  the 
Captain's  fire,  and  then  filed  off  to  their  re 
spective  messes,  to  relate  their  day's  exploits 
to  their  companions.  The  game  killed  at  this 
camp  consisted  of  six  deer,  one  elk,  two  bears, 
and  six  or  eight  turkeys. 

During  the  last  two  or  three  days,  since  their 
wild  Indian  achievement  in  navigating  the 
river,  our  retainers  had  risen  in  consequence 
among  the  rangers  ;  and  now  I  found  Tonish 
making  himself  a  complete  oracle  among  some 
of  the  raw  and  inexperienced  recruits,  who  had 
never  been  in  the  wilderness.  He  had  con 
tinually  a  knot  hanging  about  him,  and  listen 
ing  to  his  extravagant  tales  about  the  Pawnees, 
with  whom  he  pretended  to  have  had  fearful 
encounters.  His  representations,  in  fact,  were 
calculated  to  inspire  his  hearers  with  an  awful 
idea  of  the  foe  into  whose  lands  they  were  in- 


B  (Tour  on  tbe  prairies  109 

trading.  According  to  his  accounts,  the  rifle 
of  the  white  man  was  no  match  for  the  bow 
and  arrow  of  the  Pawnee.  When  the  rifle  was 
once  discharged,  it  took  time  and  trouble  to 
load  it  again,  and  in  the  meantime  the  enemy 
could  keep  on  launching  his  shafts  as  fast  as 
he  could  draw  his  bow.  Then  the  Pawnee, 
according  to  Tonish,  could  shoot,  with  un 
erring  aim,  three  hundred  yards,  and  send  his 
arrow  clean  through  and  through  a  buffalo  ; 
nay,  he  had  known  a  Pawnee  shaft  pass 
through  one  buffalo  and  wound  another.  And 
then  the  way  the  Pawnees  sheltered  themselves 
from  the  shots  of  their  enemy  :  they  would 
hang  with  one  leg  over  the  saddle,  crouching 
their  bodies  along  the  opposite  side  of  their 
horse,  and  would  shoot  their  arrows  from  under 
his  neck,  while  at  full  speed  ! 

If  Tonish  was  to  be  believed,  there  was  peril 
at  every  step  in  these  debatable  grounds  of 
the  Indian  tribes.  Pawnees  lurked  unseen 
among  the  thickets  and  ravines.  They  had 
their  scouts  and  sentinels  on  the  summit  of  the 
mounds  which  command  a  view  over  the  prai 
ries,  where  they  lay  crouched  in  the  tall  grass  ; 
only  now  and  then  raising  their  heads  to  watch 
the  movements  of  any  war  or  hunting  party 
that  might  be  passing  in  lengthened  line  below. 
At  night,  they  would  lurk  round  an  encamp- 


no  dragon 


ment ;  crawling  through  the  grass,  aid  imi 
tating  the  movements  of  a  wolf,  so  as  to  deceive 
the  sentinel  on  the  outpost,  until,  having  ar 
rived  sufficiently  near,  they  would  speed  an 
arrow  through  his  heart,  and  retreat  undis 
covered.  In  telling  his  stories,  Tonish  would 
appeal  from  time  to  time  to  Beatte  for  the  truth 
of  what  he  said ;  the  only  reply  would  be  a 
nod,  or  shrug  of  the  shoulders  ;  the  latter 
being  divided  in  mind  between  a  distaste  for 
the  gasconading  spirit  of  his  comrade,  and  a 
sovereign  contempt  for  the  inexperience  of  the 
young  rangers  in  all  that  he  considered  true 
knowledge. 


Cbapter  £ OT. 

A  Sick  Camp — The  March — The  Disabled  Horse — Old 

Ryan  and  the  Stragglers — Symptoms  of  Change 

of  Weather,  and  Change  of  Humors. 

October  18. 

WE  prepared  to  march  at  the  usual  hour, 
but  word  was  brought  to  the  Cap 
tain  that  three  of  the  rangers,  who 
had  been  attacked  with  the  measles,  were  un 
able  to  proceed,  and  that  another  one  was 
missing.  The  last  was  an  old  frontiersman, 
by  the  name  of  Sawyer,  who  had  gained  years 
without  experience  :  and  having  sallied  forth  to 
hunt,  on  the  preceding  day,  had  probably  lost 
his  way  on  the  prairies.  A  guard  of  ten  men 
was,  therefore,  left  to  take  care  of  the  sick,  and 
wait  for  the  straggler.  If  the  former  recovered 
sufficiently  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  days, 
they  were  to  rejoin  the  main  body,  otherwise 
to  be  escorted  back  to  the  garrison. 

Taking  our  leave  of  the  sick-camp,  we  shaped 
in 


H2  dragon  dfctecellang 


our  course  westward,  along  the  heads  of  small 
streams,  all  wandering,  in  deep  ravines,  towards 
the  Red  Fork.  The  land  was  high  and  undu 
lating,  or  "  rolling,"  as  it  is  termed  in  the 
West ;  with  a  poor  hungry  soil  mingled  with 
the  sandstone,  which  is  unusual  in  this  part  of 
the  country,  and  checkered  with  harsh  forests 
of  post-oak  and  black-jack. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  I  received  a 
lesson  on  the  importance  of  being  chary  of  one's 
steed  on  the  prairies.  The  one  I  rode  sur 
passed  in  action  most  horses  of  the  troop,  and 
was  of  great  mettle  and  a  generous  spirit.  In 
crossing  the  deep  ravines,  he  would  scramble 
up  the  steep  banks  like  a  cat,  and  was  always 
for  leaping  the  narrow  runs  of  water.  I  was 
not  aware  of  the  imprudence  of  indulging  him 
in  such  exertions,  until,  in  leaping  him  across 
a  small  brook,  I  felt  him  immediately  falter 
beneath  me.  He  limped  forward  a  short  dis 
tance,  but  soon  fell  stark  lame,  having  sprained 
his  shoulder.  What  was  to  be  done?  He 
could  not  keep  up  with  the  troop,  and  was  too 
valuable  to  be  abandoned  on  the  prairie.  The 
only  alternative  was  to  send  him  back  to  join 
the  invalids  in  the  sick-camp,  and  to  share 
their  fortunes.  Nobody,  however,  seemed  dis 
posed  to  lead  him  back,  although  I  offered  a 
liberal  reward.  Either  the  stories  of  Tonish 


B  Gour  on  tbe  prairies  113 

about  the  Pawnees  had  spread  apprehension 
of  lurking  foes  and  imminent  perils  on  the 
prairies,  or  there  was  a  fear  of  missing  the  trail 
and  getting  lost.  At  length  two  young  men 
stepped  forward  and  agreed  to  go  in  company, 
so,  that,  should  they  be  benighted  on  the 
prairies,  there  might  be  one  to  watch  while  the 
other  slept. 

The  horse  was  accordingly  consigned  to  their 
care,  and  I  looked  after  him  with  a  rueful  eye, 
as  he  limped  off,  for  it  seemed  as  if,  with  him,  all 
strength  and  buoyancy  had  departed  from  me. 

I  looked  round  for  a  steed  to  supply  his  place, 
and  fixed  my  eyes  upon  the  gallant  gray  which  I 
had  transferred  at  the  Agency  to  Tonish.  The 
moment,  however,  that  I  hinted  about  his  dis 
mounting  and  taking  up  with  the  supernu 
merary  pony,  the  little  varlet  broke  out  into 
vociferous  remonstrances  and  lamentations, 
gasping  and  almost  strangling,  in  his  eager 
ness  to  give  vent  to  them.  I  saw  that  to  un 
horse  him  would  be  to  prostrate  his  spirit  and 
cut  his  vanity  to  the  quick.  I  had  not  the 
heart  to  inflict  such  a  wound,  or  to  bring  down 
the  poor  devil  from  his  transient  vainglory  ; 
so  I  left  him  in  possession  of  his  gallant  gray, 
and  contented  myself  with  shifting  my  saddle 
to  the  jaded  pony. 

I  was  now  sensible  of  the  complete  reverse 

VOL.  I.— 8 


ii4  dragon 


to  which  a  horseman  is  exposed  on  the  prairies. 
I  felt  how  completely  the  spirit  of  the  rider  de 
pended  upon  his  steed.  I  had  hitherto  been 
able  to  make  excursions  at  will  from  the  line, 
and  to  gallop  in  pursuit  of  any  object  of  in 
terest  or  curiosity.  I  was  now  reduced  to  the 
tone  of  the  jaded  animal  I  bestrode,  and  doomed 
to  plod  on  patiently  and  slowly  after  my  file- 
leader.  Above  all,  I  was  made  conscious  how 
unwise  it  is,  on  expeditions  of  the  kind,  where 
a  man's  life  may  depend  upon  the  strength  and 
speed  and  freshness  of  his  horse,  to  task  the 
generous  animal  by  any  unnecessary  exertion 
of  his  powers. 

I  have  observed  that  the  wary  and  experi 
enced  huntsman  and  traveller  of  the  prairies  is 
always  sparing  of  his  horse,  when  on  a  journey  ; 
never,  except  in  emergency,  putting  him  off 
of  a  walk.  The  regular  journey  ings  of  fron 
tiersmen  and  Indians,  when  on  a  long  march, 
seldom  exceed  above  fifteen  miles  a  day,  and 
are  generally  about  ten  or  twelve,  and  they 
never  indulge  in  capricious  galloping.  Many 
of  those,  however,  with  whom  I  was  travelling 
were  young  and  inexperienced,  and  full  of  ex 
citement  at  finding  themselves  in  a  country 
abounding  with  game.  It  was  impossible  to 
retain  them  in  the  sobriety  of  a  march,  or  to 
keep  them  to  the  line.  As  we  broke  our  way 


ZTour  on  tbe  prairies  115 


through  the  coverts  and  ravines,  and  the  deer 
started  up  and  scampered  off  to  the  right  and 
left,  the  rifle-balls  would  whiz  after  them,  and 
our  young  hunters  dash  off  in  pursuit.  At  one 
time  they  made  a  grand  burst  after  what  they 
supposed  to  be  a  gang  of  bears,  but  soon  pulled 
up  on  discovering  them  to  be  black  wolves, 
prowling  in  company. 

After  a  march  of  about  twelve  miles  we  en 
camped,  a  little  after  mid-day,  on  the  borders 
of  a  brook  which  loitered  through  a  deep 
ravine.  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  old 
Ryan,  the  Nestor  of  the  camp,  made  his  ap 
pearance,  followed  by  his  little  band  of  strag 
glers.  He  was  greeted  with  joyful  acclama 
tions,  which  showed  the  estimation  in  which 
he  was  held  by  his  brother  woodmen.  The 
little  band  came  laden  with  venison  ;  a  fine 
haunch  of  which  the  veteran  hunter  laid,  as  a 
present,  by  the  Captain's  fire. 

Our  men,  Beatte  and  Tonish,  both  sallied 
forth,  early  in  the  afternoon,  to  hunt.  Towards 
evening  the  former  returned,  with  a  fine  buck 
across  his  horse.  He  laid  it  down,  as  usual, 
in  silence,  and  proceeded  to  unsaddle  and  turn 
his  horse  loose.  Tonish  came  back  without 
any  game,  but  with  much  more  glory, — having 
made  several  capital  shots,  though  unluckily 
the  wounded  deer  had  all  escaped  him. 


n6  Crayon 


There  was  an  abundant  supply  of  meat  in 
the  camp ;  for  besides  other  game,  three  elk 
had  been  killed.  The  wary  and  veteran  wood, 
men  were  all  busy  jerking  meat,  against  a  time 
of  scarcity ;  the  less  experienced  revelled  in 
present  abundance,  leaving  the  morrow  to  pro 
vide  for  itself. 

On  the  following  morning  (Oct.  19)  I  suc 
ceeded  in  changing  my  pony  and  a  reasonable 
sum  of  money  for  a  strong  and  active  horse. 
It  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  find  myself  once 
more  tolerably  well  mounted.  I  perceived, 
however,  that  there  would  be  little  difficulty 
in  making  a  selection  from  among  the  troop, 
for  the  rangers  had  all  that  propensity  for 
" swapping,"  or,  as  they  term  it,  ''trading," 
which  pervades  the  West.  In  the  course  of 
our  expedition  there  was  scarce  a  horse,  rifle, 
powder-horn,  or  blanket,  that  did  not  change 
owners  several  times  ;  and  one  keen  "  trader  " 
boasted  of  having  by  dint  of  frequent  bargains 
changed  a  bad  horse  into  a  good  one,  and  put 
a  hundred  dollars  in  his  pocket. 

The  morning  was  lowering  and  sultry,  with 
low  muttering  of  distant  thunder.  The  change 
of  weather  had  its  effect  upon  the  spirits  of  the 
troop.  The  camp  was  unusually  sober  and 
quiet ;  there  was  none  of  the  accustomed  farm 
yard  melody  of  crowing  and  cackling  at  day- 


ZTour  on  tbe  iprairies  117 


break  ;  none  of  the  bursts  of  merriment,  the 
loud  jokes  and  banterings,  that  had  commonly 
prevailed  during  the  bustle  of  equipment. 
Now  and  then  might  be  heard  a  short  strain 
of  a  song,  a  faint  laugh,  or  a  solitary  whistle  ; 
but,  in  general,  every  one  went  silently  and 
doggedly  about  the  duties  of  the  camp,  or  the 
preparations  for  departure. 

When  the  time  arrived  to  saddle  and  mount, 
five  horses  were  reported  as  missing  ;  although 
all  the  woods  and  tickets  had  been  beaten  up 
for  some  distance  round  the  camp.  Several 
rangers  were  dispatched  to  '  '  skir  '  '  the  coun 
try  round  in  quest  of  them.  In  the  meantime 
the  thunder  continued  to  growl,  and  we  had  a 
passing  shower,  The  horses,  like  their  riders, 
were  affected  by  the  change  of  weather.  They 
stood  here  and  there  about  the  camp,  some 
saddled  and  bridled,  others  loose,  but  all  spirit 
less  and  dozing,  with  stooping  head,  one  hind 
leg  partly  drawn  up  so  as  to  rest  on  the  point 
of  the  hoof,  and  the  whole  hide  reeking  with 
the  rain,  and  sending  up  wreaths  of  vapor. 
The  men,  too,  waited  in  listless  groups  the 
return  of  their  comrades  who  had  gone  in 
quest  of  the  horses  ;  now  and  then  turning  up 
an  anxious  eye  to  the  drifting  clouds,  which 
boded  an  approaching  storm.  Gloomy  weather 
inspires  gloomy  thoughts.  Some  expressed 


n8  dragon 


fears  that  we  were  dogged  by  some  party  of 
Indians,  who  had  stolen  the  horses  in  the 
night.  The  most  prevalent  apprehension, 
however,  was,  that  they  had  returned  on  their 
traces  to  our  last  encampment,  or  had  started 
off  on  a  direct  line  for  Fort  Gibson.  In  this 
respect,  the  instinct  of  horses  is  said  to  resem 
ble  that  of  the  pigeon.  They  will  strike  for 
home  by  a  direct  course,  passing  through 
tracts  of  wilderness  which  they  have  never 
before  traversed. 

After  delaying  until  the  morning  was  some 
what  advanced,  a  lieutenant  with  a  guard  was 
appointed  to  await  the  return  of  the  rangers, 
and  we  set  off  on  our  day's  journey,  consider 
ably  reduced  in  numbers  ;  much,  as  I  thought, 
to  the  discomposure  of  some  of  the  troop,  who 
intimated  that  we  might  prove  too  weak- 
handed  in  case  of  an  encounter  with  the 
Pawnees. 


Cbapter  £WI* 

Thunder-storm  on  the  Prairies — The  Storm-En 
campment — Night  Scene — Indian  Stories — 
A  Frightened  Horse. 

OUR  march  for  a  part  of  the  day  lay  a 
little  to  the  south  of  west,  through 
straggling  forests  of  the  kind  of  low, 
scrubbed  trees  already  mentioned,  called  ' '  post- 
oaks,"  and  "  black-jacks.'*  The  soil  of  these 
"oak  barrens"  is  loose  and  unsound;  being 
little  better  at  times  than  a  mere  quicksand,  in 
which,  in  rainy  weather,  the  horse's  hoof  slips 
from  side  to  side,  and  now  and  then  sinks  in  a 
rotton,  spongy  turf,  to  the  fetlock.  Such  was 
the  case  at  present  in  consequence  of  succes 
sive  thunder  showers,  through  which  we  drag 
gled  along  in  dogged  silence.  Several  deer 
were  roused  by  our  approach,  and  scudded 
across  the  forest-glades ;  but  no  one,  as  for 
merly,  broke  the  line  of  march  to  pursue  them. 
At  one  time  we  passed  the  bones  and  horns  of 
119 


120  Crayon 


a  buffalo,  and  at  another  time  a  buffalo  track 
not  above  three  days  old.  These  signs  of  the 
vicinity  of  this  grand  game  of  the  prairies  had 
a  reviving  effect  on  the  spirits  of  our  hunts 
men  ;  but  it  was  of  transient  duration. 

In  crossing  a  prairie  of  moderate  extent 
rendered  little  better  than  a  slippery  bog  by 
the  recent  showers,  we  were  overtaken  by  a 
violent  thunder-gust.  The  rain  came  rattling 
upon  us  in  torrents,  and  spattered  up  like  steam 
along  the  ground;  the  whole  landscape  was 
suddenly  wrapped  in  gloom  that  gave  a  vivid 
effect  to  the  intense  sheets  of  lightning,  while 
the  thundef  seemed  to  burst  over  our  very 
heads,  and  was  reverberated  by  the  groves  and 
forests  that  checked  and  skirted  the  prairie. 
Man  and  beast  were  so  pelted,  drenched,  and 
confounded,  that  the  line  was  thrown  in  com 
plete  confusion  ; — some  of  the  horses  were  so 
frightened  as  to  be  almost  unmanageable,  and 
our  scattered  cavalcade  looked  like  a  tempest- 
tossed  fleet,  driving  hither  and  thither,  at  the 
mercy  of  wind  and  wave. 

At  length,  at  half-past  two  o'clock,  we  came 
to  a  halt,  and  gathering  together  our  forces, 
encamped  in  an  open  and  lofty  grove,  with  a 
prairie  on  one  side  and  a  stream  on  the  other. 
The  forest  immediately  rang  with  the  sound  of 
the  axe  and  the  crash  of  falling  trees.  Huge 


B  Gout  on  tbe  prairies  121 

fires  were  soon  blazing ;  blankets  were  stretched 
before  them,  by  way  of  tents;  booths  were 
hastily  reared  of  bark  and  skins ;  every  fire 
had  its  group  drawn  close  round  it,  drying  and 
warming  themselves,  or  preparing  a  comforting 
meal.  Some  of  the  rangers  were  discharging 
and  cleaning  their  rifles,  which  had  been 
exposed  to  the  rain  ;  while  the  horses,  relieved 
from  their  saddles  and  burdens,  rolled  in  the 
wet  grass. 

The  showers  continued  from  time  to  time, 
until  late  in  the  evening.  Before  dark,  our 
horses  were  gathered  in  and  tethered  about 
the  skirts  of  the  camp,  within  the  outposts, 
through  fear  of  Indian  prowlers  who  are  apt 
to  take  advantage  of  stormy  nights  for  their 
depredations  and  assaults.  As  the  night  thick 
ened,  the  huge  fires  became  more  and  more 
luminous  ;  lighting  up  masses  of  the  over 
hanging  foliage,  and  leaving  other  parts  of 
the  grove  in  deep  gloom.  Every  fire  had  its 
goblin  group  around  it,  while  the  tethered 
horses  were  dimly  seen,  like  spectres,  among 
the  thickets ;  excepting  that  here  and  there 
a  gray  one  stood  out  in  bright  relief. 

The  grove,  thus  fitfully  lighted  up  by  the 
ruddy  glare  of  the  fires,  resembled  a  vast  leafy 
dome,  walled  in  by  opaque  darkness;  but 
every  now  and  then  two  or  three  quivering 


122  Crayon 


flashes  of  lightning  in  quick  succession  would 
suddenly  reveal  a  vast  champaign  country, 
where  fields  and  forests,  and  running  streams, 
would  start,  as  it  were,  into  existence  for  a  few 
brief  seconds,  and,  before  the  eye  could  ascer 
tain  them,  vanish  again  into  gloom. 

A  thunder-storm  on  a  prairie,  as  upon  the 
ocean,  derives  grandeur  and  sublimity  from 
the  wild  and  boundless  waste  over  which  it 
rages  and  bellows.  It  is  not  surprising  that 
these  awful  phenomena  of  nature  should  be 
objects  of  superstitious  reverence  to  the  poor 
savages,  and  that  they  should  consider  the 
thunder  the  angry  voice  of  the  Great  Spirit. 
As  our  half-breeds  sat  gossiping  round  the  fire, 
I  drew  from  them  some  of  the  notions  enter 
tained  on  the  subject  by  their  Indian  friends. 
The  latter  declare  that  extinguished  thunder 
bolts  are  some  times  picked  up  by  hunters  on 
the  prairies,  who  use  them  for  the  heads  of 
arrows  and  lances,  and  that  any  warrior  thus 
armed  is  invincible.  Should  a  thunder-storm 
occur,  however,  during  battle,  he  is  liable  to 
be  carried  away  by  the  thunder,  and  never 
heard  of  more. 

A  warrior  of  the  Konza  tribe,  hunting  on  a 
prairie,  was  overtaken  by  a  storm,  and  struck 
down  senseless  by  the  thunder.  On  recovering 
he  beheld  the  thunderbolt  lying  on  the  ground, 


trout  on  tbe  prairies  123 


and  a  horse  standing  beside  it.  Snatching  up 
the  bolt,  he  sprang  upon  the  horse,  but  found, 
too  late,  he  was  astride  of  the  lightning.  In 
an  instant  he  was  whisked  away  over  prairies 
and  forests,  and  streams  and  deserts,  until  he 
was  flung  senseless  at  the  foot  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  ;  whence,  on  recovering,  it  took 
him  several  months  to  return  to  his  own 
people. 

This  story  reminded  me  of  an  Indian  tradi 
tion  related  by  a  traveller,  of  the  fate  of  a 
warrior  who  saw  the  thunder  lying  upon  the 
ground,  with  a  beautifully  wrought  moccasin 
on  each  side  of  it.  Thinking  he  had  found  a 
prize,  he  put  on  the  moccasins  ;  but  they  bore 
him  away  to  the  land  of  spirits,  whence  he 
never  returned. 

These  are  simple  and  artless  tales,  but  they 
had  a  wild  and  romantic  interest  heard  from 
the  lips  of  half  savage  narrators,  round  a  hun 
ter's  fire,  in  a  stormy  night,  with  a  forest  on 
one  side  and  a  howling  waste  on  the  other  ; 
and  where,  peradventure,  savage  foes  might  be 
lurking  in  the  outer  darkness. 

Our  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  loud 
clap  of  thunder,  followed  immediately  by  the 
sound  of  a  horse  galloping  off  madly  into  the 
waste.  Every  one  listened  in  mute  silence. 
The  hoofs  resounded  vigorously  for  a  time,  but 


124  Cragon 


g.rew  fainter  and  fainter,  until  they  died  away 
in  remote  distance. 

When  the  sound  was  no  longer  to  be  heard, 
the  listeners  turned  to  conjecture  what  could 
have  caused  this  sudden  scamper.  Some 
thought  the  horse  had  been  startled  by  the 
thunder;  others,  that  some  lurking  Indian 
had  galloped  off  with  him.  To  this  it  was 
objected,  that  the  usual  mode  with  the  Indians 
is  to  steal  quietly  upon  the  horse,  take  off  his 
fetters,  mount  him  gently,  and  walk  him  off 
as  silently  as  possible,  leading  off  others,  with 
out  any  unusual  stir  or  noise  to  disturb  the 
camp. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  was  stated  as  a  com 
mon  practice  with  the  Indians,  to  creep  among 
a  troop  of  horses  when  grazing  at  night, 
mount  one  quietly,  and  then  start  off  suddenly 
at  full  speed.  Nothing  is  so  contagious  among 
horses  as  a  panic  ;  one  sudden  break-away  of 
this  kind  will  sometimes  alarm  the  whole  troop, 
and  they  will  set  off,  helter-skelter,  after  the 
leader. 

Every  one  who  had  a  horse  grazing  on  the 
skirts  of  the  camp  was  uneasy  lest  his  should 
be  the  fugitive ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  as 
certain  the  fact  until  morning.  Those  who 
had  tethered  their  horses  felt  more  secure ; 
though  horses  thus  tied  up,  and  limited  to  a 


£our  on  tbe  prairies  125 


short  range  at  night,  are  apt  to  fall  off  in  flesh 
and  strength,  during  a  long  march  ;  and  many 
of  the  horses  of  the  troop  already  gave  signs 
of  being  wayworn. 

After  a  gloomy  and  unruly  night,  the  morn 
ing  dawned  bright  and  clear,  and  a  glorious 
sunrise  transformed  the  whole  landscape,  as 
if  by  magic.  The  late  dreary  wilderness 
brightened  into  a  fine  open  country,  with 
stately  groves,  and  clumps  of  oaks  of  a  gigantic 
size,  some  of  which  stood  singly,  as  if  planted 
for  ornament  and  shade,  in  the  midst  of  rich 
meadows ;  while  our  horses,  scattered  about 
and  grazing  under  them,  gave  to  the  whole 
the  air  of  a  noble  park.  It  was  difficult  to 
realize  the  fact  that  we  were  so  far  in  the 
wilds  beyond  the  residence  of  man.  Our 
encampment  alone  had  a  savage  appearance, 
with  its  rude  tents  of  skins  and  blankets,  and 
its  columns  of  blue  smoke  rising  among  the 
trees. 

The  first  care  in  the  morning  was  to  look 
after  our  horses.  Some  of  them  had  wandered 
to  a  distance,  but  all  were  fortunately  found — 
even  the  one  whose  clattering  hoofs  had  caused 
such  uneasiness  in  the  night.  He  had  come 
to  a  halt  about  a  mile  from  the  camp,  and  was 
found  quietly  grazing  near  a  brook.  The 
bugle  sounded  for  departure  about  half-past 


126 


Crayon  /BMsceUattB 


eight.  As  we  were  in  greater  risk  of  Indian 
molestation  the  farther  we  advanced,  our  line 
was  formed  with  more  precision  than  hereto 
fore.  Every  one  had  his  station  assigned  him, 
and  was  forbidden  to  leave  it  in  pursuit  of 
game  without  special  permission.  The  pack- 
horses  were  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  line, 
and  a  strong  guard  in  the  rear. 


Cbapter  £1DU1T1L 

A  Grand  Prairie— Cliff  Castle— Buffalo  Tracks— Deer 
Hunted  by  Wolves— Cross  Timber. 

AFTER  a  toilsome  march  of  some  distance 
through  a  country  cut  up  by  ravines 
and  brooks,  and  entangled  by  thickets, 
we  emerged  upon  a  grand  prairie.  Here  one 
of  the  characteristic  scenes  of  the  Far  West 
broke  upon  us.  An  immense  extent  of  grassy, 
undulating,  or,  as  it  is  termed,  rolling  country, 
with  here  and  there  a  clump  of  trees  dimly 
seen  in  the  distance  like  a  ship  at  sea  ;  the 
landscape  deriving  sublimity  from  its  vastness 
and  simplicity.  To  the  southwest,  on  the 
summit  of  a  hill,  was  a  singular  crest  of 
broken  rocks,  resembling  a  ruined  fortress.  It 
reminded  me  of  the  ruin  of  some  Moorish 
castle,  crowning  a  height  in  the  midst  of  a 
lonely  Spanish  landscape.  To  this  hill  we 
gave  the  name  of  Cliff  Castle. 

The  prairies  of  these  great  hunting  regions 
127 


128  Crayon 


differed  in  the  character  of  their  vegetation 
from  those  through  which  I  had  hitherto  passed. 
Instead  of  a  profusion  of  tall  flowering  plants 
and  long  flaunting  grasses,  they  were  covered 
with  a  shorter  growth  of  herbage  called  buffalo- 
grass,  somewhat  coarse,  but,  at  the  proper 
seasons,  affording  excellent  and  abundant  pas 
turage.  At  present  it  was  growing  wiry,  and  in 
many  places  was  too  much  parched  for  grazing. 

The  weather  was  verging  into  that  serene 
but  somewhat  arid  season  called  the  Indian 
Summer.  There  was  a  smoky  haze  in  the 
atmosphere  that  tempered  the  brightness  of 
the  sunshine  into  a  golden  tint,  softening  the 
features  of  the  landscape,  and  giving  a 
vagueness  to  the  outlines  of  distant  objects. 
This  haziness  was  daily  increasing,  and  was 
attributed  to  the  burning  of  distant  prairies 
by  the  Indian  hunting  parties. 

We  had  not  gone  far  upon  the  prairie  before 
we  came  to  where  deeply  worn  footpaths  were 
seen  traversing  the  country  ;  sometimes  two 
or  three  would  keep  on  parallel  to  each  other, 
and  but  a  few  paces  apart.  These  were  pro 
nounced  to  be  traces  of  buffaloes,  where  large 
droves  had  passed.  There  were  tracks  also  of 
horses,  which  were  observed  with  some  atten 
tion  by  our  experienced  hunters.  They  could 
not  be  the  tracks  of  wild  horses,  as  there  were 


21  ttour  on  tbc  prairies  129 

no  prints  of  the  hoofs  of  colts ;  all  were  full- 
grown.  As  the  horses  evidently  were  not 
shod,  it  was  concluded  they  must  belong  to 
some  hunting  party  of  Pawnees.  In  the 
course  of  the  morning,  the  tracks  of  a  single 
horse,  with  shoes,  were  discovered.  This 
might  be  the  horse  of  a  Cherokee  hunter,  or 
perhaps  a  horse  stolen  from  the  whites  of  the 
frontier.  Thus,  in  traversing  these  perilous 
wastes,  every  footprint  and  dint  of  hoof  be 
comes  a  matter  of  cautious  inspection  and 
shrewd  surmise  ;  and  the  question  continually 
is,  whether  it  be  the  trace  of  a  friend  or  foe, 
whether  of  recent  or  ancient  date,  and  whether 
the  being  that  made  it  be  out  of  reach,  or  liable 
to  be  encountered. 

We  were  getting  more  and  more  into  the 
game  country  :  as  we  proceeded,  we  repeatedly 
saw  deer  to  the  right  and  left,  bounding  off  for 
the  coverts ;  but  their  appearance  no  longer 
excited  the  same  eagerness  to  pursue.  In 
passing  along  a  slope  of  the  prairie,  between 
two  rolling  swells  of  land,  we  came  in  sight 
of  a  genuine  natural  hunting  match.  A  pack 
of  seven  black  wolves  and  one  white  one  were 
in  full  chase  of  a  buck,  which  they  had  nearly 
tired  down.  They  crossed  the  line  of  our 
march  without  apparently  perceiving  us  ;  we 
saw  them  have  a  fair  run  of  nearly  a  mile, 

VOL.   I. — 9 


i3o  Crayon  fl&tecellang 


gaining  upon  the  buck  until  they  were  leaping 
upon  his  haunches,  when  he  plunged  down  a 
ravine.  Some  of  our  party  galloped  to  a  rising 
ground  commanding  a  view  of  the  ravine. 
The  poor  buck  was  completely  beset,  some 
on  his  flanks,  some  at  his  throat :  he  made  two 
or  three  struggles  and  desperate  bounds,  but 
was  dragged  down,  overpowered,  and  torn  to 
pieces.  The  black  wolves,  in  their  ravenous 
hunger  and  fury,  took  no  notice  of  the  distant 
group  of  horsemen ;  but  the  white  wolf, 
apparently  less  game,  abandoned  the  prey, 
and  scampered  over  hill  and  dale,  rousing 
various  deer  that  were  crouched  in  the  hollows, 
and  which  bounded  off  likewise  in  different 
directions.  It  was  altogether  a  wild  scene, 
worthy  of  the  ' '  hunting  grounds. ' ' 

We  now  came  once  more  in  sight  of  the  Red 
Fork,  winding  its  turbid  course  between  well- 
wooded  hills,  and  through  a  vast  and  magnifi 
cent  landscape.  The  prairies  bordering  on  the 
rivers  are  always  varied  in  this  way  with 
woodland,  so  beautifully  interspersed  as  to  ap 
pear  to  have  been  laid  out  by  the  hand  of 
taste ;  and  they  only  want  here  and  there  a 
village  spire,  the  battlements  of  a  castle,  or  the 
turrets  of  an  old  family  mansion  rising  from 
among  the  trees,  to  rival  the  most  ornamented 
scenery  of  Europe. 


B  Gout  on  tbe  {prairies  131 

About  mid-day  we  reached  the  edge  of  that 
scattered  belt  of  forest  land,  about  forty  miles 
in  width,  which  stretches  across  the  country 
from  north  to  south,  from  the  Arkansas  to  the 
Red  River,  separating  the  upper  from  the  lower 
prairies,  and  commonly  called  the  "  Cross 
Timber."  On  the  skirts  of  this  forest  land, 
just  on  the  edge  of  a  prairie,  we  found  traces 
of  a  Pawnee  encampment  of  between  one  and 
two  hundred  lodges,  showing  that  the  party 
must  have  been  numerous.  The  skull  of  a 
buffalo  lay  near  the  camp,  and  the  moss  which 
had  gathered  on  it  proved  that  the  encampment 
was  at  least  a  year  old.  About  half  a  mile  off 
we  encamped  in  a  beautiful  grove,  watered  by 
a  fine  spring  and  rivulet.  Our  day's  journey 
had  been  about  fourteen  miles. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  we  were  re 
joined  by  two  of  Lieutenant  King's  party, 
which  we  had  left  behind  a  few  days  before,  to 
look  after  stray  horses.  All  the  horses  had 
been  found,  though  some  had  wandered  to  the 
distance  of  several  miles.  The  lieutenant, 
with  seventeen  of  his  companions,  had  remained 
at  our  last  night's  encampment  to  hunt,  having 
come  upon  recent  traces  of  buffalo.  They  had 
also  seen  a  fine  wild  horse,  which,  however, 
had  galloped  off  with  a  speed  that  defied 
pursuit. 


132  dragon 


Confident  anticipations  were  now  indulged 
that  on  the  following  day  we  should  meet  with 
buffalo,  and  perhaps  with  wild  horses,  and 
every  one  was  in  spirits.  We  needed  some 
excitement  of  the  kind,  for  our  young  men 
were  growing  weary  of  marching  and  encamp 
ing  under  restraint,  and  provisions  this  day 
were  scanty.  The  Captain  and  several  of  the 
rangers  went  out  hunting,  but  brought  home 
nothing  but  a  small  deer  and  a  few  turkeys. 
Our  two  men,  Beatte  and  Tonish,  likewise 
went  out.  The  former  returned  with  a  deer 
athwart  his  horse,  which,  as  usual,  he  laid 
down  by  our  lodge,  and  said  nothing.  Tonish 
returned  with  no  game,  but  with  his  custom 
ary  budget  of  wonderful  tales.  Both  he  and 
the  deer  had  done  wonders.  Not  one  had  come 
within  the  lure  of  his  rifle  without  being  hit  in 
a  mortal  part,  yet,  strange  to  say,  every  one 
had  kept  on  his  way  without  flinching.  We 
all  determined  that,  from  the  accuracy  of  his 
aim,  Tonish  must  have  shot  with  charmed 
balls,  but  that  every  deer  had  a  charmed  life. 
The  most  important  intelligence  brought  by 
him,  however,  was,  that  he  had  seen  the  fresh 
tracks  of  several  wild  horses.  He  now  con 
sidered  himself  upon  the  eve  of  great  exploits, 
for  there  was  nothing  upon  which  he  glorified 
himself  more  than  his  skill  in  horse-catching. 


Cbapter  f  Uf * 

Hunters'  Anticipations — The  Rugged  Ford — A 
Wild  Horse. 

October  21. 

THIS  morning  the  camp  was  in  a  bustle  at 
an  early  hour  :  the  expectation  of  fall 
ing  in  with  buffalo  in  the  course  of  the 
day  roused  every  one's  spirit.  There  was  a 
continual  cracking  of  rifles,  that  they  might 
be  reloaded :  the  shot  was  drawn  off  from 
double-barrelled  guns,  and  balls  were  substi 
tuted.  Tonish,  however,  prepared  chiefly  for 
a  campaign  against  wild  horses.  He  took  the 
field,  with  a  coil  of  cordage  hung  at  his  saddle 
bow,  and  a  couple  of  white  wands,  something 
like  fishing-rods,  eight  or  ten  feet  in  length, 
with  forked  ends.  The  coil  of  cordage  thus 
used  in  hunting  the  wild  horse  is  called  a  lariat, 
and  answers  to  the  lasso  of  South  America. 
It  is  not  flung,  however,  in  the  graceful  and 
dexterous  Spanish  style.  The  hunter,  after  a 
133 


134  dragon  flfctecellang 


hard  chase,  when  he  succeeds  in  getting  almost 
head  and  head  with  the  wild  horse,  hitches  the 
running  noose  of  the  lariat  over  his  head  by 
means  of  the  forked  stick  ;  then  letting  him 
have  the  full  length  of  the  cord,  plays  him 
like  a  fish,  and  chokes  him  into  subjection. 

All  this  Tonish  promised  to  exemplify  to  our 
full  satisfaction  ;  we  had  not  much  confidence 
in  his  success,  and  feared  he  might  knock  up  a 
good  horse  in  a  headlong  gallop  after  a  bad 
one  ;  for,  like  all  the  French  Creoles,  he  was  a 
merciless  hard  rider.  It  was  determined,  there 
fore,  to  keep  a  sharp  eye  upon  him,  and  to 
check  his  sallying  propensities. 

We  had  not  proceeded  far  on  our  morning's 
march,  when  we  were  checked  by  a  deep 
stream,  running  along  the  bottom  of  a  thickly 
wooded  ravine.  After  coasting  it  for  a  couple 
of  miles,  we  came  to  a  fording  place  ;  but  to 
get  down  to  it  was  the  difficulty,  for  the  banks 
were  steep  and  crumbling,  and  overgrown  with 
forest  trees,  mingled  with  thickets,  brambles, 
and  grapevines.  At  length  the  leading  horse 
man  broke  his  way  through  the  thicket,  and 
his  horse,  putting  his  feet  together,  slid 
down  the  black  crumbling  bank,  to  the  narrow 
margin  of  the  stream  ;  then  floundering  across, 
with  mud  and  water  up  to  the  saddle-girths, 
he  scrambled  up  the  opposite  bank,  and  arrived 


21  (Tour  on  tbe  prairies  135 

safe  on  level  ground.  The  whole  line  followed 
pell-mell  after  the  leader,  and  pushing  forward 
in  close  order,  Indian  file,  they  crowded  each 
other  down  the  bank  and  into  the  stream.  Some 
of  the  horsemen  missed  the  ford,  and  were 
soused  over  head  and  ears  ;  one  was  unhorsed, 
and  plumped  head  foremost  into  the  middle  of 
the  stream  :  for  my  own  part,  while  pressed 
forward,  and  hurried  over  the  bank  by  those 
behind  me,  I  was  interrupted  by  a  grapevine, 
as  thick  as  a  cable,  which  hung  in  a  festoon  as 
low  as  the  saddle-bow,  and  dragging  me  from 
the  saddle,  threw  me  among  the  feet  of  the 
trampling  horses.  Fortunately,  I  escaped 
without  injury,  regained  my  steed,  crossed 
the  stream  without  further  difficulty,  and  was 
enabled  to  join  in  the  merriment  occasioned  by 
the  ludicrous  disasters  of  the  fording. 

It  is  at  passes  like  this  that  occur  the  most 
dangerous  ambuscades  and  sanguinary  sur 
prises  of  Indian  warfare.  A  party  of  savages, 
well  placed  among  the  thickets,  might  have 
made  sad  havoc  among  our  men,  while  entan 
gled  in  the  ravine. 

We  now  came  out  upon  a  vast  and  glorious 
prairie,  spreading  out  beneath  the  golden  beams 
of  an  autumnal  sun.  The  deep  and  frequent 
traces  of  buffalo  showed  it  to  be  one  of  their 
favorite  grazing  grounds ;  yet  none  were  to  be 


136  dragon 


seen.  In  the  course  of  the  morning  we  were 
overtaken  by  the  lieutenant  and  seventeen  men, 
who  had  remained  behind,  and  who  came  laden 
with  the  spoils  of  buffaloes — having  killed 
three  on  the  preceding  day.  One  of  the  rang 
ers,  however,  had  little  luck  to  boast  of,  his 
horse  having  taken  fright  at  sight  of  the  buf 
faloes,  thrown  his  rider,  and  escaped  into  the 
woods. 

The  excitement  of  our  hunters,  both  young 
and  old,  now  rose  almost  to  fever-height,  scarce 
any  of  them  having  ever  encountered  any  of 
this  far-famed  game  of  the  prairies.  Accord 
ingly,  when  in  the  course  of  the  day  the  cry  of 
buffalo  !  buffalo !  rose  from  one  part  of  the 
line,  the  whole  troop  were  thrown  in  agitation. 
We  were  just  then  passing  through  a  beautiful 
part  of  the  prairie,  finely  diversified  by  hills 
and  slopes,  and  woody  dells,  and  high,  stately 
groves.  Those  who  had  given  the  alarm 
pointed  out  a  large  black-looking  animal, 
slowly  moving  along  the  side  of  a  rising 
ground,  about  two  miles  off.  The  ever-ready 
Tonish  jumped  up,  and  stood  with  his  feet  on 
the  saddle,  and  his  forked  sticks  in  his  hands, 
like  a  posture-master  or  scaramouch  at  a  circus, 
just  ready  for  a  feat  of  horsemanship.  After 
gazing  at  the  animal  for  a  moment,  which  he 
could  have  seen  full  as  well  without  rising 


Gour  on  tbe  pcairfee  137 


from  his  stirrups,  he  pronounced  it  a  wild 
horse  ;  and  dropping  again  into  his  saddle, 
was  about  to  dash  off  full  tilt  in  pursuit,  when, 
to  his  inexpressible  chagrin,  he  was  called 
back,  and  ordered  to  keep  to  his  post,  in  rear 
of  the  baggage  horses. 

The  Captain  and  two  of  his  officers  now  set 
off  to  reconnoitre  the  game.  It  was  the  inten 
tion  of  the  Captain,  who  was  an  admirable 
marksman,  to  endeavor  to  crease  the  horse, 
that  is  to  say,  to  hit  him  with  a  rifle-ball  in 
the  ridge  of  the  neck.  A  wound  of  this  kind 
paralyzes  a  horse  for  a  moment  ;  he  falls  to  the 
ground,  and  may  be  secured  before  he  recov 
ers.  It  is  a  cruel  expedient,  however,  for  an 
ill-directed  shot  may  kill  or  maim  the  noble 
animal. 

As  the  Captain  and  his  companions  moved 
off  laterally  and  slowly  in  the  direction  of  the 
horse,  we  continued  our  course  forward  ; 
watching  intently,  however,  the  movements 
of  the  game.  The  horse  moved  quietly  over 
the  profile  of  the  rising  ground,  and  disap 
peared  behind  it.  The  Captain  and  his  party 
were  likewise  soon  hidden  by  an  intervening 
hill. 

After  a  time,  the  horse  suddenly  made  his 
appearance  to  our  right,  just  ahead  of  the  line, 
emerging  out  of  a  small  valley,  on  a  brisk 


138  Cragon 


trot;  having  evidently  taken  the  alarm.  At 
sight  of  us,  he  stopped  short,  gazed  at  us  for 
an  instant  with  surprise,  then  tossing  up  his 
head,  trotted  off  in  fine  style,  glancing  at  us 
over  one  shoulder,  then  over  the  other,  his 
ample  mane  and  tail  streaming  in  the  wind. 
Having  dashed  through  a  skirt  of  thicket,  that 
looked  like  a  hedge-row,  he  paused  in  the 
open  field  beyond,  glanced  back  at  us  again, 
with  a  beautiful  bend  of  the  neck,  snuffed  the 
air,  and  tossing  his  head  again,  broke  into  a 
gallop,  and  took  refuge  in  a  wood. 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  a  horse 
scouring  his  native  wilderness  in  all  the  pride 
and  freedom  of  his  nature.  How  different 
from  the  poor  mutilated,  harnessed,  checked, 
reined-up  victim  of  luxury,  caprice,  and  ava 
rice,  in  our  cities  ! 

After  travelling  about  fifteen  miles,  we  en 
camped  about  one  o'clock,  that  our  hunters 
might  have  time  to  procure  a  supply  of  provi 
sions.  Our  encampment  was  in  a  spacious  grove 
of  lofty  oaks  and  walnuts,  free  from  underwood, 
on  the  border  of  a  brook.  While  unloading 
the  pack-horses,  our  little  Frenchman  was  loud 
in  his  complaints  at  having  been  prevented  from 
pursuing  the  wild  horse,  which  he  would  cer 
tainly  have  taken.  In  the  meantime,  I  saw 
our  half-breed,  Beatte,  quietly  saddle  his  best 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies 


139 


horse,  a  powerful  steed  of  a  half  savage  race, 
hang  a  lariat  at  the  saddle-bow,  take  a  rifle  and 
forked  stick  in  hand,  and,  mounting,  depart 
from  the  camp  without  saying  a  word.  It  was 
evident  he  was  going  off  in  quest  of  the  wild 
horse,  but  was  disposed  to  hunt  alone. 


Cbaptet  ££, 

THE  CAMP  OF  THE  WILD  HORSE. 

Hunters'  Stories— Habits  of  the  Wild  Horse— The 

Half-Breed  and  His  Prize— A  Horse  Chase— 

A  Wild  Spirit  Tamed. 

WB  had  encamped  in  a  good  neighbor 
hood  for  game,  as  the  reports  of  rifles 
in  various  directions  speedily  gave 
notice.  One  of  our  hunters  soon  returned  with 
the  meat  of  a  doe,  tied  up  in  the  skin,  and 
slung  across  his  shoulders.  Another  brought 
a  fat  buck  across  his  horse.  Two  other  deer 
were  brought  in,  and  a  number  of  turkeys. 
All  the  game  was  thrown  down  in  front  of  the 
Captain's  fire,  to  be  portioned  out  among  the 
various  messes.  The  spits  and  camp  kettles 
were  soon  in  full  employ,  and  throughout  the 
evening  there  was  a  scene  of  hunters'  feasting 
and  profusion. 

We  had  been  disappointed  this  day  in  our 
hopes  of  meeting  with  buffalo,  but  the  sight  of 
140 


a  ftour  on  tbe  Dairies  141 

the  wild  horse  had  been  a  great  novelty,  and 
gave  a  turn  to  the  conversation  of  the  camp  for 
the  evening.  There  were  several  anecdotes 
told  of  a  famous  gray  horse,  which  had  ranged 
the  prairies  of  this  neighborhood  for  six  or 
seven  years,  setting  at  naught  every  attempt 
of  the  hunters  to  capture  him.  They  say  he 
can  pace  and  rack  (or  amble)  faster  than  the 
fleetest  horses  can  run.  Equally  marvellous 
accounts  were  given  of  a  black  horse  on  the 
Brassos,  who  grazed  the  prairies  on  that  river's 
banks  in  the  Texas.  For  years  he  outstripped 
all  pursuit.  His  fame  spread  far  and  wide  ; 
offers  were  made  for  him  to  the  amount  of  a 
thousand  dollars  ;  the  boldest  and  most  hard- 
riding  hunters  tried  incessantly  to  make  prize 
of  him,  but  in  vain.  A  t  length  he  fell  a  vic 
tim  to  his  gallantry,  being  decoyed  under  a 
tree  by  a  tame  mare,  and  a  noose  dropped  over 
his  head  by  a  boy  perched  among  the  branches. 
The  capture  of  the  wild  horse  is  one  of  the 
most  favorite  achievements  of  the  prairie 
tribes  ;  and,  indeed,  it  is  from  this  source  that 
the  Indian  hunters  chiefly  supply  themselves. 
The  wild  horses  which  range  those  vast  grassy 
plains,  extending  from  the  Arkansas  to  the 
Spanish  settlements,  are  of  various  forms  and 
colors,  betraying  their  various  descents.  Some 
resemble  the  common  English  stock,  and  are 


142  Cragon  /BMscellans 


probably  descended  from  horses  which  have 
escaped  from  our  border  settlements.  Others 
are  of  a  low  but  strong  make,  and  are  supposed 
to  be  of  the  Andalusian  breed,  brought  out  by 
the  Spanish  discoverers. 

Some  fanciful  speculatists  have  seen  in  them 
descendants  of  the  Arab  stock,  brought  into 
Spain  from  Africa,  and  thence  transferred  to 
this  country ;  and  have  pleased  themselves 
with  the  idea  that  their  sires  may  have  been 
of  the  pure  coursers  of  the  desert,  that  once 
bore  Mahomet  and  his  warlike  disciples  across 
the  sandy  plains  of  Arabia. 

The  habits  of  the  Arab  seem  to  have  come 
with  the  steed.  The  introduction  of  the  horse 
on  the  boundless  prairies  of  the  Far  West 
changed  the  whole  mcde  of  living  of  their  in 
habitants.  It  gave  them  that  facility  of  rapid 
motion,  and  of  sudden  and  distant  change  of 
place,  so  dear  to  the  roving  propensities  of 
man.  Instead  of  lurking  in  the  depths  of 
gloomy  forests,  and  patiently  threading  the 
mazes  of  a  tangled  wilderness  on  foot,  like  his 
brethren  of  the  north,  the  Indian  of  the  West 
is  a  rover  of  the  plain  ;  he  leads  a  brighter  and 
more  sunshiny  life ;  almost  always  on  horse 
back,  on  vast  flowery  prairies  and  under  cloud 
less  skies. 

I  was  lying  by  the  Captain's  fire,  late  in  the 


B  {Tour  on  tbc  prairies  143 


evening,  listening  to  stories  about  those  cour 
sers  of  the  prairies,  and  weaving  speculations 
of  my  own,  when  there  was  a  clamor  of  voices 
and  a  loud  cheering  at  the  other  end  of  the 
camp ;  and  word  was  passed  that  Beatte,  the 
half-breed,  had  brought  in  a  wild  horse. 

In  an  instant  every  fire  was  deserted ;  the 
whole  camp  crowded  to  see  the  Indian  and  his 
prize.  It  was  a  colt  about  two  years  old,  well 
grown,  finely  limbed,  with  bright  prominent 
eyes,  and  a  spirited  yet  gentle  demeanor.  He 
gazed  about  him  with  an  air  of  mingled  stu 
pefaction  and  surprise,  at  the  men,  the  horses, 
and  the  camp  fires ;  while  the  Indian  stood 
before  him  with  folded  arms,  having  hold  of 
the  other  end  of  the  cord  which  noosed  his 
captive,  and  gazing  on  him  with  a  most  im 
perturbable  aspect.  Beatte,  as  I  have  before 
observed,  has  a  greenish  olive  complexion, 
with  a  strongly  marked  countenance,  not  un 
like  the  bronze  casts  of  Napoleon  ;  and  as  he 
stood  before  his  captive  horse,  with  folded 
arms  and  fixed  aspect,  he  looked  more  like  a 
statue  than  a  man. 

If  the  horse,  however,  manifested  the  least 
restiveness,  Beatte  would  immediately  worry 
him  with  the  lariat,  jerking  him  first  on  one 
side,  then  on  the  other,  so  as  almost  to  throw 
him  on  the  ground  ;  when  he  had  thus  ren- 


144  Crayon 


dered  him  passive,  he  would  resume  his  statue- 
like  attitude,  and  gaze  at  him  in  silence. 

The  whole  scene  was  singularly  wild  :  the 
tall  grove,  partially  illumined  by  the  flashing 
fires  of  the  camp,  the  horses  tethered  here 
and  there  among  the  trees,  the  carcasses  of 
deer  hanging  around,  and,  in  the  midst  of 
all,  the  wild  huntsman  and  his  wild  horse, 
with  an  admiring  throng  of  rangers  almost  as 
wild. 

In  the  eagerness  of  their  excitement,  several 
of  the  young  rangers  sought  to  get  the  horse 
by  purchase  or  barter,  and  even  offered  extrav 
agant  terms ;  but  Beatte  declined  all  their 
offers.  "You  give  great  price  now,"  said  he  ; 
' '  to-morrow  you  be  sorry,  and  take  back,  and 
say  d — d  Indian  ! ' ' 

The  young  men  importuned  him  with  ques 
tions  about  the  mode  in  which  he  took  the 
horse,  but  his  answers  were  dry  and  laconic ; 
he  evidently  retained  some  pique  at  having 
been  undervalued  and  sneered  at  by  them ; 
and  at  the  same  time  looked  down  upon  them 
with  contempt  as  greenhorns  little  versed  in 
the  noble  science  of  woodcraft. 

Afterwards,  however,  when  he  was  seated 
by  our  fire,  I  readily  drew  from  him  an  account 
of  his  exploit ;  for,  though  taciturn  among 
strangers,  and  little  prone  to  boast  of  his  ac- 


aour  on  tbe  prairies  145 


tions,  yet  his  taciturnity,  like  that  of  all  In 
dians,  had  its  times  of  relaxation. 

He  informed  me,  that  on  leaving  the  camp 
he  had  returned  to  the  place  where  we  had 
lost  sight  of  the  wild  horse.  Soon  getting  upon 
its  track,  he  followed  it  to  the  banks  of  the 
river.  Here,  the  prints  being  more  distinct  in 
the  sand,  he  perceived  that  one  of  the  hoofs 
was  broken  and  defective,  so  he  gave  up  the 
pursuit. 

As  he  was  returning  to  the  camp,  he  came 
upon  a  gang  of  six  horses,  which  immediately 
made  for  the  river.  He  pursued  them  across 
the  stream,  left  his  rifle  on  the  river-bank,  and 
putting  his  horse  to  full  speed,  soon  came  up 
with  the  fugitives.  He  attempted  to  noose  one 
of  them,  but  the  lariat  hitched  on  one  of  his 
ears,  and  he  shook  it  off.  The  horses  dashed 
up  a  hill,  he  followed  hard  at  their  heels, 
when,  of  a  sudden,  he  saw  their  tails  whisking 
in  the  air,  and  they  plunging  down  a  precipice. 
It  was  too  late  to  stop.  He  shut  his  eyes,  held 
in  his  breath,  and  went  over  with  them—  neck 
or  nothing.  The  descent  was  between  twenty 
and  thirty  feet,  but  they  all  came  down  safe 
upon  a  sandy  bottom. 

He  now  succeeded  in  throwing  his  noose 
around  a  fine  young  horse.  As  he  galloped 
alongside  of  him,  the  two  horses  passed  each 

VOL.  I.  —  IO 


146  Crayon 


side  of  a  sapling,  and  the  end  of  the  lariat  was 
jerked  out  of  his  hand.  He  regained  it,  but 
an  intervening  tree  obliged  him  again  to  let  it 
go.  Having  once  more  caught  it,  and  coming 
to  a  more  open  country,  he  was  enabled  to 
play  the  young  horse  with  the  line  until  he 
gradually  checked  and  subdued  him,  so  as  to 
lead  him  to  the  place  where  he  had  left  his 
rifle. 

He  had  another  formidable  difficulty  in  get 
ting  him  across  the  river,  where  both  horses 
stuck  for  a  time  in  the  mire,  and  Beatte  was 
nearly  unseated  from  his  saddle  by  the  force 
of  the  current  and  the  struggles  of  his  captive. 
After  much  toil  and  trouble,  however,  he  got 
across  the  stream,  and  brought  his  prize  safe 
into  camp. 

For  the  remainder  of  the  evening  the  camp 
remained  in  a  high  state  of  excitement ;  noth 
ing  was  talked  of  but  the  capture  of  wild 
horses ;  every  youngster  of  the  troop  was  for 
this  harum-scarum  kind  of  chase ;  every  one 
promised  himself  to  return  from  the  campaign 
in  triumph,  bestriding  one  of  these  wild  cour 
sers  of  the  prairies.  Beatte  had  suddenly  risen 
to  great  importance  ;  he  was  the  prime  hunter, 
the  hero  of  the  day.  Offers  were  made  him 
by  the  best-mounted  rangers,  to  let  him  ride 
their  horses  in  the  chase,  provided  he  would 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  147 


give  them  a  share  of  the  spoil.  Beatte  bore 
his  honors  in  silence,  and  closed  with  none  of 
the  offers.  Our  stammering,  chattering,  gas 
conading  little  Frenchman,  however,  made  up 
for  his  taciturnity  by  vaunting  as  much  upon 
the  subject  as  if  it  were  he  that  had  caught  the 
horse.  Indeed  he  held  forth  so  learnedly  in 
the  matter,  and  boasted  so  much  of  the  many 
horses  he  had  taken,  that  he  began  to  be  con 
sidered  an  oracle  ;  and  some  of  the  youngsters 
were  inclined  to  doubt  whether  he  were  not 
superior  even  to  the  taciturn  Beatte. 

The  excitement  kept  the  camp  awake  later 
than  usual.  The  hum  of  voices,  interrupted 
by  occasional  peals  of  laughter,  was  heard  from 
the  groups  around  the  various  fires,  and  the 
night  was  considerably  advanced  before  all 
had  sunk  to  sleep. 

With  the  morning  dawn  the  excitement  re 
vived,  and  Beatte  and  his  wild  horse  were 
again  the  gaze  and  talk  of  the  camp.  The 
captive  had  been  tied  all  night  to  a  tree  among 
the  other  horses.  He  was  again  led  forth  by 
Beatte,  by  a  long  halter  or  lariat,  and,  on  his 
manifesting  the  least  restiveness,  was,  as  be 
fore,  jerked  and  worried  into  passive  submis 
sion.  He  appeared  to  be  gentle  and  docile  by 
nature,  and  had  a  beautifully  mild  expression 
of  the  eye.  In  his  strange  and  forlorn  situa- 


148  Crayon 


tion,  the  poor  animal  seemed  to  seek  protection 
and  companionship  in  the  very  horse  which 
had  aided  to  capture  him. 

Seeing  him  thus  gentle  and  tractable,  Beatte, 
just  as  we  were  about  to  march,  strapped  a 
light  pack  upon  his  back,  by  way  of  giving 
him  the  first  lesson  in  servitude.  The  native 
pride  and  independence  of  the  animal  took  fire 
at  this  indignity.  He  reared,  and  plunged, 
and  kicked,  and  tried  in  every  way  to  get  rid 
of  the  degrading  burden.  The  Indian  was  too 
potent  for  him.  At  every  paroxysm  he  re 
newed  the  discipline  of  the  halter,  until  the 
poor  animal,  driven  to  despair,  threw  himself 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  lay  motionless, 
as  if  acknowledging  himself  vanquished.  A 
stage  hero,  representing  the  despair  of  a  cap 
tive  prince,  could  not  have  played  his  part 
more  dramatically.  There  was  absolutely  a 
moral  grandeur  in  it. 

The  imperturbable  Beatte  folded  his  arms, 
and  stood  for  a  time  looking  down  in  silence 
upon  his  captive;  until  seeing  him  perfectly 
subdued,  he  nodded  his  head  slowly,  screwed 
his  mouth  into  a  sardonic  smile  of  triumph, 
and,  with  a  jerk  of  the  halter,  ordered  him  to 
rise.  He  obeyed,  and  from  that  time  forward 
offered  no  resistance.  During  that  day  he  bore 
his  pack  patiently,  and  was  led  by  the  halter ; 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  149 


but  in  two  days  he  followed  voluntarily  at 
large  among  the  supernumerary  horses  of  the 
troop. 

I  could  not  but  look  with  compassion  upon 
this  fine  young  animal,  whose  whole  course  of 
existence  had  been  so  suddenly  reversed. 
From  being  a  denizen  of  these  vast  pastures, 
ranging  at  will  from  plain  to  plain  and  mead 
to  mead,  cropping  of  every  herb  and  flower, 
and  drinking  of  every  stream,  he  was  suddenly 
reduced  to  perpetual  and  painful  servitude,  to 
pass  his  life  under  the  harness  and  the  curb, 
amid,  perhaps,  the  din  and  dust  and  drudgery 
of  cities.  The  transition  in  his  lot  was  such  as 
sometimes  takes  place  in  human  affairs,  and 
in  the  fortunes  of  towering  individuals  —  one 
day,  a  prince  of  the  prairies  —  the  next  day,  a 
pack-horse  ! 


Cbapter 


The  Fording  of  the  Red  Fork—  The  Dreary  Forests  of 
the  "Cross  Timber—"  Buffalo  ! 

WE  left  the  camp  of  the  wild  horse  about 
a  quarter  before  eight,  and  after  steer 
ing  nearly  south   for  three  or   four 
miles,  arrived  on  the  banks  of  the  Red  Fork, 
about  seventy-five  miles,  as  we  supposed,  above 
its  mouth.     The  river  was  about  three  hundred 
yards  wide,  wandering  among  sand-bars  and 
shoals.     Its  shores,  and  the  long  sandy  banks 
that  stretched  out  into  the  stream,  were  printed, 
as  usual,  with  the  traces  of  various  animals  that 
had  come  down  to  cross  it,  or  to  drink  its  waters. 
Here  we  came  to  a  halt,  and  there  was  much 
consultation  about  the  possibility  of  fording  the 
river  with  safety,  as  there  was  an  apprehension 
of  quicksands.     Beatte,  who  had  been  some 
what  in  the  rear,  came  up  while  we  were  de 
bating.     He  was  mounted  on  his  horse  of  the 
half  wild  breed,  and  leading  his  captive  by 
150 


B  {Tour  on  tbe  ipratrtes  151 

the  bridle.  He  gave  the  latter  in  charge  to 
Tonish,  and  without  saying  a  word,  urged  his 
horse  into  the  stream,  and  crossed  it  in  safety. 
Everything  was  done  by  this  man  in  a  similar 
way,  promptly,  resolutely,  and  silently,  with 
out  a  previous  promise  or  an  after  vaunt. 

The  troop  now  followed  the  lead  of  Beatte, 
and  reached  the  opposite  shore  without  any 
mishap,  though  one  of  the  pack-horses,  wan 
dering  a  little  from  the  track,  came  near  being 
swallowed  up  in  a  quicksand,  and  was  with 
difficulty  dragged  to  land. 

After  crossing  the  river,  we  had  to  force  our 
way  for  nearly  a  mile  through  a  thick  cane- 
brake,  which,  at  first  sight,  appeared  an  im 
pervious  mass  of  reeds  and  brambles.  It  was 
a  hard  struggle ;  our  horses  were  often  to  the 
saddle-girths  in  mire  and  water,  and  both  horse 
and  horseman  harassed  and  torn  by  bush  and 
brier.  Falling,  however,  upon  a  buffalo  track, 
we  at  length  extricated  ourselves  from  this 
morass,  and  ascended  a  ridge  of  land,  where 
we  beheld  a  beautiful  open  country  before  us  ; 
while  to  our  right  the  belt  of  forest  land,  called 
"The  Cross  Timber/'  continued  stretching 
away  to  the  southward,  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach.  We  soon  abandoned  the  open  country, 
and  struck  into  the  forest  land.  It  was  the 
intention  of  the  Captain  to  keep  on  southwest  by 


Crayon 


south,  and  traverse  the  Cross  Timber  diago 
nally,  so  as  to  come  out  upon  the  edge  of  the 
great  western  prairie.  By  thus  maintaining 
something  of  a  southerly  direction,  he  trusted, 
while  he  crossed  the  belt  of  the  forest,  he  would 
at  the  same  time  approach  the  Red  River. 

The  plan  of  the  Captain  was  judicious  ;  but 
he  erred  from  not  being  informed  of  the  nature 
of  the  country.  Had  he  kept  directly  west,  a 
couple  of  days  would  have  carried  us  through 
the  forest  land,  and  we  might  then  have  had 
an  easy  course  along  the  skirts  of  the  upper 
prairies,  to  the  Red  River;  by  going  diago 
nally,  we  were  kept  for  many  weary  days  toiling 
through  a  dismal  series  of  rugged  forests. 

The  Cross  Timber  is  about  forty  miles  in 
breadth,  and  stretches  over  a  rough  country 
of  rolling  hills,  covered  with  scattered  tracts 
of  post-oak  and  black-jack  ;  with  some  inter 
vening  valleys,  which  at  proper  seasons  would 
afford  good  pasturage.  It  is  very  much  cut  up 
by  deep  ravines,  which  in  the  rainy  seasons  are 
the  beds  of  temporary  streams,  tributary  to  the 
main  rivers,  and  these  are  called  "  branches." 
The  whole  tract  may  present  a  pleasant  aspect 
in  the  fresh  time  of  the  year,  when  the 
ground  is  covered  with  herbage ;  when  the 
trees  are  in  their  green  leaf,  and  the  glens  are 
enlivened  by  running  streams.  Unfortunately, 


<Iour  on  tbe  prairies  153 


we  entered  it  too  late  in  the  season.  The 
herbage  was  parched  ;  the  foliage  of  the  scrubby 
forests  was  withered;  the  whole  woodland 
prospect,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  had  a 
brown  and  arid  hue.  The  fires  made  on  the 
prairies  by  the  Indian  hunters,  had  frequently 
penetrated  these  forests,  sweeping  in  light, 
transient  flames  along  the  dry  grass,  scorching 
and  calcining  the  lower  twigs  and  branches  of 
the  trees,  and  leaving  them  black  and  hard,  so 
as  to  tear  the  flesh  of  man  and  horse  that  had 
to  scramble  through  them.  I  shall  not  easily 
forget  the  mortal  toil,  and  the  vexations  of  flesh 
and  spirit,  that  we  underwent  occasionally,  in 
our  wanderings  through  the  Cross  Timber. 
It  was  like  struggling  through  forests  of  cast 
iron. 

After  a  tedious  ride  of  several  miles,  we 
came  out  upon  an  open  tract  of  hill  and  dale, 
interspersed  with  woodland.  Here  we  were 
roused  by  the  cry  of  buffalo  !  buffalo  !  The 
effect  was  something  like  that  of  the  cry  cf  a 
sail  !  a  sail  !  at  sea.  It  was  not  a  false  alarm. 
Three  or  four  of  those  enormous  animals  were 
visible  to  our  sight,  grazing  on  the  slope  of  a 
distant  hill. 

There  was  a  general  movement  to  set  off  in 
pursuit,  and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that 
the  vivacity  of  the  younger  men  of  the  troop 


i54  Crayon 


could  be  restrained.  Leaving  orders  that  the 
line  of  march  should  be  preserved,  the  Captain 
and  two  of  his  officers  departed  at  a  quiet  pace, 
accompanied  by  Beatte  and  by  the  ever-forward 
Tonish ;  for  it  was  impossible  any  longer  to 
keep  the  little  Frenchman  in  check,  being  half 
crazy  to  prove  his  skill  and  prowess  in  hunting 
the  buffalo. 

The  intervening  hills  soon  hid  from  us  both 
che  game  and  the  huntsmen.  We  kept  on  our 
course  in  quest  of  a  camping-place,  which  was 
difficult  to  be  found ;  almost  all  the  channels 
of  the  streams  being  dry,  and  the  country  being 
destitute  of  fountain-heads. 

After  proceeding  some  distance,  there  was 
again  a  cry  of  buffalo,  and  two  were  pointed 
out  on  a  hill  to  the  left.  The  Captain  being 
absent,  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  restrain 
the  ardor  of  the  young  hunters.  Away  several 
of  them  dashed,  full  speed,  and  soon  disap 
peared  among  the  ravines ;  the  rest  kept  on, 
anxious  to  find  a  proper  place  for  encampment. 

Indeed  we  now  began  to  experience  the  dis 
advantages  of  the  season.  The  pasturage  of 
the  prairies  was  scanty  and  parched,  the  pea- 
vines  which  grew  in  the  woody  bottoms  were 
withered,  and  most  of  the  "  branches"  or 
streams  were  dried  up.  While  wandering  in 
this  perplexity,  we  were  overtaken  by  the  Cap- 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  155 


tain  and  all  his  party,  except  Tonish.  They 
had  pursued  the  buffalo  for  some  distance 
without  getting  within  shot,  and  had  given  up 
the  chase,  being  fearful  of  fatiguing  their 
horses,  or  being  led  off  too  far  from  camp. 
The  little  Frenchman,  however,  had  galloped 
after  them  at  headlong  speed,  and  the  last  they 
saw  of  him,  he  was  engaged,  as  it  were,  yard- 
arm  and  yard-arm,  with  a  great  buffalo  bull, 
firing  broadsides  into  him.  "  I  tink  dat  lit 
tle  man  crazy — somehow,"  observed  Beatte, 
dryly. 


Cbapter 

The  Alarm  Camp. 

WK  now  came  to  a  halt,  and  had  to  con 
tent  ourselves  with  an  indifferent  en 
campment.  It  was  in  a  grove  of 
scrub-oaks,  on  the  borders  of  a  deep  ravine,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  were  a  few  scanty  pools 
of  water.  We  were  just  at  the  foot  of  a  gradu 
ally  sloping  hill,  covered  with  half  withered 
grass,  that  afforded  meagre  pasturage.  In  the 
spot  where  we  had  encamped,  the  grass  was 
high  and  parched.  The  view  around  us  was 
circumscribed  and  much  shut  in  by  gently 
swelling  hills. 

Just  as  we  were  encamping,  Tonish  arrived, 
all  glorious,  from  his  hunting  match  ;  his  white 
horse  hung  all  round  with  buffalo  meat.  Ac 
cording  to  his  own  account,  he  had  laid  low 
two  mighty  bulls.  As  usual,  we  deducted  one 
half  from  his  boastings  ;  but,  now  that  he  had 
156 


B  Gour  on  tbe  prairies  157 


something  real  to  vaunt  about,  there  was  no 
restraining  the  valor  of  his  tongue. 

After  having  in  some  measure  appeased  his 
vanity  by  boasting  of  his  exploit,  he  informed 
us  that  he  had  observed  the  fresh  track  of 
horses,  which,  from  various  circumstances,  he 
suspected  to  have  been  made  by  some  roving 
band  of  Pawnees.  This  caused  some  little  un 
easiness.  The  young  men  who  had  left  the 
line  of  march  in  pursuit  of  the  two  buffaloes, 
had  not  yet  rejoined  us ;  apprehensions  were 
expressed  that  they  might  be  waylaid  and  at 
tacked.  Our  veteran  hunter,  old  Ryan,  also, 
immediately  on  our  halting  to  encamp,  had 
gone  off  on  foot,  in  company  with  a  young 
disciple.  "  Dat  old  man  will  have  his  brains 
knocked  out  by  de  Pawnees  yet,"  said  Beatte. 
"  He  tink  he  know  everyting,  but  he  don't 
know  Pawnees,  anyhow." 

Taking  his  rifle,  the  Captain  repaired  on 
foot  to  reconnoitre  the  country  from  the  naked 
summit  of  one  of  the  neighboring  hills.  In 
the  meantime  the  horses  were  hobbled  and 
turned  loose  to  graze  ;  and  wood  was  cut,  and 
fires  made  to  prepare  the  evening's  repast. 

Suddenly  there  was  an  alarm  of  fire  in  the 
camp !  The  flame  from  one  of  the  kindling 
fires  had  caught  to  the  tall  dry  grass  ;  a  breeze 
was  blowing  ;  there  was  danger  that  the  camp 


is8  Crayon 


would  soon  be  wrapped  in  a  light  blaze. 
"I/x>k  to  the  horses!"  cried  one;  "drag 
away  the  baggage!"  cried  another;  "take 
care  of  the  rifles  and  powder-horns  !  "  cried  a 
third.  All  was  hurry-scurry  and  uproar.  The 
horses  dashed  wildly  about :  some  of  the  men 
snatched  away  rifles  and  powder-horns,  others 
dragged  off  saddles  and  saddle-bags.  Mean 
time,  no  one  thought  of  quelling  the  fire,  nor 
indeed  knew  how  to  quell  it.  Beatte,  however, 
and  his  comrades  attacked  it  in  the  Indian 
mode,  beating  down  the  edges  of  the  fire  with 
blankets  and  horse-cloths,  and  endeavoring  to 
prevent  its  spreading  among  the  grass  ;  the 
rangers  followed  their  example,  and  in  a  little 
while  the  flames  were  happily  quelled. 

The  fires  were  now  properly  kindled  on 
places  from  which  the  dry  grass  had  been 
cleared  away.  The  horses  were  scattered 
about  a  small  valley,  and  on  the  sloping  hill 
side,  cropping  the  scanty  herbage.  Tonish  was 
preparing  a  sumptuous  evening's  meal  from  his 
buffalo  meat,  promising  us  a  rich  soup  and  a 
prime  piece  of  roast  beef ;  but  we  were  doomed 
to  experience  another  and  more  serious  alarm. 

There  was  an  indistinct  cry  from  some  rang 
ers  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  of  which  we  could 
only  distinguish  the  words,  "  The  horses  !  the 
horses  !  get  in  the  horses  ! ' ' 


tTour  on  tbe  prafrfes  159 


Immediately  a  clamor  of  voices  arose  ;  shouts, 
questions,  replies,  were  all  mingled  together, 
so  that  nothing  could  be  clearly  understood, 
and  every  one  drew  his  own  inference. 

"The  Captain  has  started  buffaloes,"  cried 
one,  "and  wants  horses  for  the  chase."  Im 
mediately  a  number  of  rangers  seized  their 
rifles,  and  scampered  off  for  the  hill-top. 
*  '  The  prairie  is  on  fire  beyond  the  hill,  '  '  cried 
another;  "I  see  the  smoke  —  the  Captain 
means  we  shall  drive  the  horses  beyond  the 
brook." 

By  this  time  a  ranger  from  the  hill  had 
reached  the  skirts  of  the  camp.  He  was  al 
most  breathless,  and  could  only  say  that  the 
Captain  had  seen  Indians  at  a  distance. 

"  Pawnees  !  Pawnees  !  "  was  now  the  cry 
among  our  wild-headed  youngsters.  "  Drive 
the  horses  into  the  camp  !  '  '  cried  one.  '  '  Sad 
dle  the  horses  !"  cried  another.  "  Form  the 
line  !  '  *  cried  a  third.  There  was  now  a  scene 
of  clamor  and  confusion  that  baffles  all  de 
scription.  The  rangers  were  scampering  about 
the  adjacent  field  in  pursuit  of  their  horses. 
One  might  be  seen  tugging  his  steed  along  by 
a  halter  ;  another  without  a  hat,  riding  bare 
backed  ;  another  driving  a  hobbled  horse 
before  him,  that  made  awkward  leaps  like  a 
kangaroo. 


160  Gragon 


The  alarm  increased.  Word  was  brought 
from  the  lower  end  of  the  camp  that  there  was 
a  band  of  Pawnees  in  a  neighboring  valley. 
They  had  shot  old  Ryan  through  the  head, 
and  were  chasing  his  companion.  * '  No,  it  was 
not  old  Ryan  that  was  killed — it  was  one  of 
the  hunters  that  had  been  after  the  two  buffa 
loes."  "  There  are  three  hundred  Pawnees 
just  beyond  the  hill,"  cried  one  voice.  "  More, 
more  ! ' '  cried  another. 

Our  situation,  shut  in  among  hills,  prevented 
our  seeing  to  any  distance,  and  left  us  a  prey 
to  all  these  rumors.  A  cruel  enemy  was  sup 
posed  to  be  at  hand,  and  an  immediate  attack 
apprehended.  The  horses  by  this  time  were 
dashing  about  among  the  fires,  and  trampling 
upon  the  baggage.  Kvery  one  endeavored  to 
prepare  for  action ;  here  was  the  perplexity. 
During  the  late  alarm  of  fire,  the  saddles, 
bridles,  rifles,  powder-horns,  and  other  equip 
ments,  had  been  snatched  out  of  their  places, 
and  thrown  helter-skelter  among  the  trees. 

11  Where  is  my  saddle  !  "  cried  one.  "  Has 
any  one  seen  my  rifle  ? ' '  cried  another.  ' '  Who 
will  lend  me  a  ball  ?  "  cried  a  third,  who  was 
loading  his  piece.  ' '  I  have  lost  my  bullet- 
pouch."  "For  God's  sake,  help  me  to  girth 
this  horse  !  "  cried  another  ;  "  he  's  so  restive 
I  can  do  nothing  with  him."  In  his  hurry 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  161 


and  worry,  he  had  put  on  the  saddle  the  hind 
part  before  ! 

Some  affected  to  swagger  and  talk  bold  ; 
others  said  nothing,  but  went  on  steadily, 
preparing  their  horses  and  weapons,  and  on 
these  I  felt  the  most  reliance.  Some  were 
evidently  excited  and  elated  with  the  idea  of 
an  encounter  with  the  Indians  ;  and  none  more 
so  than  my  young  Swiss  fellow-traveller,  who 
had  a  passion  for  wild  adventure.  Our  man 
Beatte  led  his  horses  in  the  rear  of  the  camp, 
placed  his  rifle  against  a  tree,  then  seated  him 
self  by  the  fire  in  perfect  silence.  On  the  other 
hand,  little  Tonish,  who  was  busy  cooking, 
stopped  every  moment  from  his  work  to  play 
the  fan-  far  on,  singing,  swearing,  and  affecting 
an  unusual  hilarity,  which  made  me  strongly 
suspect  that  there  was  some  little  fright  at 
bottom,  to  cause  all  this  effervescence. 

About  a  dozen  of  the  rangers,  as  soon  as 
they  could  saddle  their  horses,  dashed  off  in 
the  direction  in  which  the  Pawnees  were  said 
to  have  attacked  the  hunters.  It  was  now  de 
termined,  in  case  our  camp  should  be  assailed, 
to  put  our  horses  in  the  ravine  in  rear,  where 
they  would  be  out  of  danger  from  arrow  or 
rifle-ball,  and  to  take  our  stand  within  the 
edge  of  the  ravine.  This  would  serve  as  a 
trench,  and  the  trees  and  thickets  with  which 


1 62  dragon 


it  was  bordered  would  be  sufficient  to  turn 
aside  any  shaft  of  the  enemy.  The  Pawnees, 
beside,  are  wary  of  attacking  any  covert  of 
the  kind ;  their  warfare,  as  I  have  already 
observed,  lies  in  the  open  prairie,  where, 
mounted  upon  their  fleet  horses,  they  can 
swoop  like  hawks  upon  their  enemy,  or  wheel 
about  him  and  discharge  their  arrows.  Still  I 
could  not  but  perceive,  that,  in  case  of  being 
attacked  by  such  a  number  of  these  well- 
mounted  and  warlike  savages  as  were  said  to 
be  at  hand,  we  should  be  exposed  to  consider 
able  risk  from  the  inexperience  and  want  of 
discipline  of  our  newly-raised  rangers,  and 
from  the  very  courage  of  many  of  the  younger 
ones  who  seemed  bent  on  adventure  and  ex 
ploit. 

By  this  time  the  Captain  reached  the  camp, 
and  every  one  crowded  round  him  for  informa 
tion.  He  informed  us  that  he  had  proceeded 
some  distance  on  his  reconnoitring  expedition, 
and  was  slowly  returning  towards  the  camp, 
along  the  brow  of  a  naked  hill,  when  he  saw 
something  on  the  edge  of  a  parallel  hill,  that 
looked  like  a  man.  He  paused,  and  watched 
it;  but  it  remained  so  perfectly  motionless, 
that  he  supposed  it  a  bush,  or  the  top  of  some 
tree  beyond  the  hill.  He  resumed  his  course, 
when  it  likewise  began  to  move  in  a  parallel 


£our  on  tbe  prairies  163 


direction.  Another  form  now  rose  beside  it, 
of  some  one  who  had  either  been  lying  down, 
or  had  just  ascended  the  other  side  of  the  hill. 
The  Captain  stopped  and  regarded  them  ;  they 
likewise  stopped.  He  then  lay  down  upon  the 
grass,  and  they  began  to  walk.  On  his  rising, 
they  again  stopped,  as  if  watching  him.  Know 
ing  that  the  Indians  are  apt  to  have  their  spies 
and  sentinels  thus  posted  on  the  summit  of 
naked  hills,  commanding  extensive  prospects, 
his  doubts  were  increased  by  the  suspicious 
movements  of  these  men.  He  now  put  his 
foraging  cap  on  the  end  of  his  rifle,  and  waved 
it  in  the  air.  They  took  no  notice  of  the  sig 
nal.  He  then  walked  on,  until  he  entered  the 
edge  of  a  wood,  which  concealed  him  from 
their  view.  Stopping  out  of  sight  for  a  mo 
ment,  he  again  looked  forth,  when  he  saw  the 
two  men  passing  swiftly  forward.  As  the  hill 
on  which  they  were  walking  made  a  curve 
toward  that  on  which  he  stood,  it  seemed  as  if 
they  were  endeavoring  to  head  him  before  he 
should  reach  the  camp.  Doubting  whether 
they  might  not  belong  to  some  large  party  of 
Indians,  either  in  ambush  or  moving  along  the 
valley  beyond  the  hill,  the  Captain  hastened 
his  steps  homeward,  and,  descrying  some 
rangers  on  an  eminence  between  him  and  the 
camp,  he  called  out  to  them  to  pass  the  word 


164  Crayon 


to  have  the  horses  driven  in,  as  these  are  gen 
erally  the  first  objects  of  Indian  depredation. 

Such  was  the  origin  of  the  alarm  which  had 
thrown  the  camp  in  commotion.  Some  of 
those  who  heard  the  Captain's  narration,  had 
no  doubt  that  the  men  on  the  hill  were  Paw 
nee  scouts,  belonging  to  the  band  that  had 
waylaid  the  hunters.  Distant  shots  were  heard 
at  intervals,  which  were  supposed  to  be  fired 
by  those  who  had  sallied  out  to  rescue  their 
comrades.  Several  more  rangers,  having  com 
pleted  their  equipments,  now  rode  forth  in  the 
direction  of  the  firing ;  others  looked  anxious 
and  uneasy. 

"  If  they  are  as  numerous  as  they  are  said 
to  be,"  said  one,  "  and  as  well  mounted  as  they 
generally  are,  we  shall  be  a  bad  match  for  them 
with  our  jaded  horses. ' ' 

1  'Well,"  replied  the  Captain,  "we  have  a 
strong  encampment,  and  can  stand  a  siege." 

' '  Aye,  but  they  set  fire  to  the  prairie  in  the 
night,  and  burn  us  out  of  our  encampment." 

"  We  will  then  set  up  a  counter-fire  !  " 

The  word  was  now  passed  that  a  man  on 
horseback  approached  the  camp. 

"  It  is  one  of  the  hunters  !  It  is  Clements  ! 
He  brings  buffalo  meat !  "  was  announced  by 
several  voices  as  the  horseman  drew  near. 

It  was,  in  fact,  one  of  the  rangers  who  had 


B  {Tour  on  tbe  prairies  165 

set  off  in  the  morning  in  pursuit  of  the  two 
buffaloes.  He  rode  into  the  camp,  with  the 
spoils  of  the  chase  hanging  round  his  horse, 
and  followed  by  his  companions,  all  sound  and 
unharmed,  and  equally  well  laden.  They 
proceeded  to  give  an  account  of  a  grand 
gallop  they  had  had  after  the  two  buffaloes, 
and  how  many  shots  it  had  cost  them  to  bring 
one  to  the  ground. 

"Well,  but  the  Pawnees — the  Pawnees — 
where  are  the  Pawnees  ?  " 

"What  Pawnees?" 

"  The  Pawnees  that  attacked  you." 

"  No  one  attacked  us." 

"But  have  you  seen  no  Indians  on  your 
way?" 

"  Oh,  yes;  two  of  us  got  to  the  top  of  a 
hill  to  look  out  for  the  camp,  and  saw  a  fellow 
on  an  opposite  hill  cutting  queer  antics,  who 
seemed  to  be  an  Indian." 
I  "  Pshaw  !  that  was  I !  "  said  the  Captain. 

Here  the  bubble  burst.  The  whole  alarm 
had  risen  from  this  mutual  mistake  of  the 
Captain  and  the  two  rangers.  As  to  the 
report  of  the  three  hundred  Pawnees  and  their 
attack  on  the  hunters,  it  proved  to  be  a  wan 
ton  fabrication,  of  which  no  further  notice  was 
taken  ;  though  the  author  deserved  to  have 
been  sought  out,  and  severely  punished. 


166  dragon 


There  being  no  longer  any  prospect  of  fight 
ing,  every  one  now  thought  of  eating  ;  and 
here  the  stomachs  throughout  the  camp  were 
in  unison.  Tonish  served  up  to  us  his  promised 
regale  of  buffalo  soup  and  buffalo  beef.  The 
soup  was  peppered  most  horribly,  and  the 
roast  beef  proved  the  bull  to  have  been  one 
of  the  patriarchs  of  the  prairies  ;  never  did  I 
have  to  deal  with  a  tougher  morsel.  However, 
it  was  our  first  repast  on  buffalo  meat :  so  we 
ate  it  with  a  lively  faith  ;  nor  would  our  little 
Frenchman  allow  us  any  rest  until  he  had 
extorted  from  us  an  acknowledgment  of  the 
excellence  of  his  cookery  ;  though  the  pepper 
gave  us  the  lie  in  our  throats. 

The  night  closed  in  without  the  return  of 
old  Ryan  and  his  companion.  We  had  be 
come  accustomed,  however,  to  the  aberrations 
of  this  old  cock  of  the  woods,  and  no  further 
solicitude  was  expressed  on  his  account. 

After  the  fatigues  and  agitations  of  the  day, 
the  camp  soon  sunk  into  a  profound  sleep,  ex 
cepting  those  on  guard,  who  were  more  than 
usually  on  the  alert ;  for  the  traces  recently 
seen  of  Pawnees,  and  the  certainty  that  we  were 
in  the  midst  of  their  hunting  grounds,  excited 
to  constant  vigilance.  About  half-past  ten 
o'clock  we  were  all  startled  from  sleep  by  a 
new  alarm.  A  sentinel  had  fired  off  his  rifle 


B  Gour  on  tbe  prairies  167 

and  run  into  camp,  crying  that  there  were 
Indians  at  hand. 

Every  one  was  on  his  legs  in  an  instant. 
Some  seized  their  rifles  ;  some  were  about  to 
saddle  their  horses  ;  some  hastened  to  the  Cap 
tain 's  lodge,  but  were  ordered  back  to  their 
respective  fires.  The  sentinel  was  examined. 
He  declared  he  had  seen  an  Indian  approach, 
crawling  along  the  ground,  whereupon  he  had 
fired  upon  him,  and  run  into  camp.  The  Cap 
tain  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  supposed 
Indian  was  a  wolf ;  he  reprimanded  the  senti 
nel  for  deserting  his  post,  and  obliged  him  to 
return  to  it.  Many  seemed  inclined  to  give 
credit  to  the  story  of  the  sentinel ;  for  the 
events  of  the  day  had  predisposed  them  to 
apprehend  lurking  foes  and  sudden  assaults 
during  the  darkness  of  the  night.  For  a  long 
time  they  sat  round  their  fires,  with  rifle  in 
hand,  carrying  on  low,  murmuring  conversa 
tions,  and  listening  for  some  new  alarm. 
Nothing  further,  however,  occurred  ;  the  voices 
gradually  died  away ;  the  gossipers  nodded 
and  dozed,  and  sunk  to  rest ;  and,  by  degrees, 
silence  and  sleep  once  more  stole  over  the  camp. 


Cbapter 

Beaver  Dam — Buffalo  and  Horse  Tracks — A  Pawnee 

Trail— Wild  Horses— The  Young  Hunter 

and  the  Bear — Change  of  Route. 

ON  mustering  our  forces  in  the  morning 
(Oct.  23),  old  Ryan  and  his  comrade 
were  still  missing ;  but  the  Captain 
had  such  perfect  reliance  on  the  skill  and  re 
sources  of  the  veteran  woodsman,  that  he  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  take  any  measures 
with  respect  to  him. 

Our  march  this  day  lay  through  the  same  kind 
of  rough  rolling  country  ;  checkered  by  brown 
dreary  forests  of  post-oak,  and  cut  up  by  deep 
dry  ravines.  The  distant  fires  were  evidently 
increasing  on  the  prairies.  The  wind  had  been 
at  northwest  for  several  days  ;  and  the  atmos 
phere  had  become  so  smoky,  as  in  the  height 
of  Indian  summer,  that  it  was  difficult  to  dis 
tinguish  objects  at  any  distance. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  we  crossed  a 

168 


tTour  on  tbe  prairies  169 


deep  stream  with  a  complete  beaver  dam,  above 
three  feet  high,  making  a  large  pond,  and 
doubless  containing  several  families  of  that 
industrious  animal,  though  not  one  showed  his 
nose  above  water.  The  Captain  would  not 
permit  this  amphibious  commonwealth  to  be 
disturbed. 

We  were  now  continually  coming  upon  the 
tracks  of  buffaloes  and  wild  horses  ;  those  of 
the  former  tended  invariably  to  the  south,  as 
we  could  perceive  by  the  direction  of  the 
trampled  grass.  It  was  evident  we  were  on 
the  great  highway  of  these  migratory  herds, 
but  that  they  had  chiefly  passed  to  the  south 
ward. 

Beatte,  who  generally  kept  a  parallel  course 
several  hundred  yards  distant  from  our  line  of 
march,  to  be  on  the  look-out  for  game,  and  who 
regarded  every  track  with  the  knowing  eye  of 
an  Indian,  reported  that  he  had  come  upon  a 
very  suspicious  trail.  There  were  the  tracks 
of  men  who  wore  Pawnee  moccasins.  He  had 
scented  the  smoke  of  mingled  sumach  and  to 
bacco,  such  as  the  Indians  use.  He  had 
observed  tracks  of  horses,  mingled  with  those 
of  a  dog  ;  and  a  mark  in  the  dust  where  a  cord 
had  been  trailed  along  ;  probably  the  long 
bridle,  one  end  of  which  the  Indian  horsemen 
suffer  to  trail  on  the  ground.  It  was  evident 


1 70  Crayon  d&iscellanE 

they  were  not  the  tracks  of  wild  horses.  My 
anxiety  began  to  revive  about  the  safety  of  our 
veteran  hunter  Ryan,  for  I  had  taken  a  great 
fancy  to  this  real  old  I^eatherstocking  ;  every 
one  expressed  a  confidence,  however,  that, 
wherever  Ryan  was,  he  was  safe,  and  knew 
how  to  take  care  of  himself. 

We  had  accomplished  the  greater  part  of  a 
weary  day's  march,  and  were  passing  through 
a  glade  of  the  oak  openings,  when  we  came  in 
sight  of  six  wild  horses,  among  which  I  espe 
cially  noticed  two  very  handsome  ones,  a  gray 
and  a  roan.  They  pranced  about,  with  heads 
erect,  and  long  flaunting  tails,  offering  a  proud 
contrast  to  our  poor,  spiritless,  travel-tired 
steeds.  Having  reconnoitred  us  for  a  mo 
ment,  they  set  off  at  a  gallop,  passed  through 
a  woody  dingle,  and  in  a  little  while  emerged 
once  more  to  view,  trotting  up  a  slope  about  a 
mile  distant. 

The  sight  of  these  horses  was  again  a  sore 
trial  to  the  vaporing  Tonish,  who  had  his  lariat 
and  forked  stick  ready,  and  was  on  the  point 
of  launching  forth  in  pursuit,  on  his  jaded  horse, 
when  he  was  again  ordered  back  to  the  pack- 
horses. 

After  a  day's  journey  of  fourteen  miles  in  a 
south  west  direction,  we  encamped  on  the  banks 
of  a  small  clear  stream,  on  the  northern  border 


aour  on  tbe  prairies  171 


of  the  Cross  Timbers,  and  on  the  edge  of  those 
vast  prairies  that  extend  away  to  the  foot  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  In  turning  loose  the 
horses  to  graze,  their  bells  were  stuffed  with 
grass  to  prevent  their  tinkling,  lest  it  might  be 
heard  by  some  wandering  horde  of  Pawnees. 

Our  hunters  now  went  out  in  different  direc 
tions,  but  without  much  success,  as  but  one  deer 
was  brought  into  the  camp.  A  young  ranger 
had  a  long  story  to  tell  of  his  adventures.  In 
skirting  the  thickets  of  a  deep  ravine  he  had 
wounded  a  buck,  which  he  plainly  heard  to  fall 
among  the  bushes.  He  stopped  to  fix  the  lock 
of  his  rifle,  which  was  out  of  order,  and  to  re 
load  it  ;  then  advancing  to  the  edge  of  the 
thicket,  in  quest  of  his  game,  he  heard  a  low 
growling.  Putting  the  branches  aside,  and 
stealing  silently  forward,  he  looked  down  into 
the  ravine  and  beheld  a  huge  bear  dragging 
the  carcass  of  the  deer  along  the  dry  channel 
of  a  brook,  and  growling  and  snarling  at  four 
or  five  officious  wolves,  who  seemed  to  have 
dropped  in  to  take  supper  with  him. 

The  ranger  fired  at  the  bear,  but  missed  him. 
Bruin  maintained  his  ground  and  his  prize,  and 
seemed  disposed  to  make  battle.  The  wolves, 
too,  who  were  evidently  sharp  set,  drew  off  to 
but  a  small  distance.  As  night  was  coming  on, 
the  young  hunter  felt  dismayed  at  the  wildness 


Crayon 


and  darkness  of  the  place,  and  the  strange  com 
pany  he  had  fallen  in  with  ;  so  he  quietly  with 
drew,  and  returned  empty-handed  to  the  camp, 
where,  having  told  his  story,  he  was  heartily 
bantered  by  his  more  experienced  comrades. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  old  Ryan  came 
straggling  into  the  camp,  followed  by  his  dis 
ciple,  and  as  usual  was  received  with  hearty 
gratulations.  He  had  lost  himself  yesterday , 
when  hunting,  and  camped  out  all  night,  but 
had  found  our  trail  this  morning,  and  followed 
it  up.  He  had  passed  some  time  at  the  beaver 
dam,  admiring  the  skill  and  solidity  with  which 
it  had  been  constructed.  "These  beavers," 
said  he,  "  are  industrious  little  fellows.  They 
are  the  knowingest  varment  as  I  know ;  and 
I'll  warrant  the  pond  was  stocked  with 
them." 

"  Aye,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  have  no  doubt 
most  of  the  small  rivers  we  have  passed  are  full 
of  beaver.  I  would  like  to  come  and  trap  on 
these  waters  all  winter. ' ' 

"  But  would  you  not  run  the  chance  of  being 
attacked  by  Indians?  "  asked  one  of  the  com 
pany. 

"Oh,  as  to  that,  it  would  be  safe  enough 
here,  in  the  winter-time.  There  would  be  no 
Indians  here  until  spring.  I  should  want  no 
more  than  two  companions.  Three  persons  are 


Sour  on  tbe  prairies  173 


safer  than  a  large  number  for  trapping  beaver. 
They  can  keep  quiet,  and  need  seldom  fire  a 
gun.  A  bear  would  serve  them  for  food  for 
two  months,  taking  care  to  turn  every  part  of 
it  to  advantage.  '  ' 

A  consultation  was  now  held  as  to  our  future 
progress.  We  had  thus  far  pursued  a  western 
course,  and,  having  traversed  the  Cross  Timber, 
were  on  the  skirts  of  the  Great  Western  Prairie. 
We  were  still,  however,  in  a  very  rough  coun 
try,  where  food  was  scarce.  The  season  was 
so  far  advanced  that  the  grass  was  withered, 
and  the  prairies  yielded  no  pasturage.  The 
pea-vines  of  the  bottoms,  also,  which  had  sus 
tained  our  horses  for  some  part  of  the  journey, 
were  nearly  gone,  and  for  several  days  past  the 
poor  animals  had  fallen  off  wofully  both  in 
flesh  and  spirit.  The  Indian  fires  on  the  prai 
ries  were  approaching  us  from  north  and  south 
and  west  ;  they  might  spread  also  from  the 
east,  and  leave  a  scorched  desert  between  us 
and  the  frontier,  in  which  our  horses  might  be 
famished. 

It  was  determined,  therefore,  to  advance  no 
farther  to  the  westward,  but  to  shape  our  course 
more  to  the  east,  so  as  to  strike  the  north  fork 
of  the  Canadian  as  soon  as  possible,  where  we 
hoped  to  find  abundance  of  young  cane  ;  which, 
at  this  season  of  the  year,  affords  the  most 


174 


Cragon 


nutritious  pasturage  for  the  horses,  and  at  the 
same  time  attracts  immense  quantities  of  game. 
Here  then  we  fixed  the  limits  of  our  tour  to  the 
Far  West,  being  within  little  more  than  a  day's 
march  of  the  boundary  line  of  Texas. 


Cbapter  £  £  HID. 

Scarcity  of  Bread — Rencontre  with  Buffaloes — Wild 
Turkeys — Fall  of  a  Buffalo  Bull. 

THE  morning  broke  bright  and  clear,  but 
the  camp  had  nothing  of  its  usual  gay- 
ety.  The  concert  of  the  farm-yard  was 
at  an  end  ;  not  a  cock  crew,  nor  dog  barked  ; 
nor  was  there  either  singing  or  laughing  ;  every 
one  pursued  his  avocations  quietly  and  gravely. 
The  novelty  of  the  expedition  was  wearing 
off.  Some  of  the  young  men  were  getting  as 
wayworn  as  their  horses  ;  and  most  of  them, 
unaccustomed  to  the  hunter's  life,  began  to 
repine  at  its  privations.  What  they  most  felt 
was  the  want  of  bread,  their  rations  of  flour 
having  been  exhausted  for  several  days.  The 
old  hunters,  who  had  often  experienced  this 
want,  made  light  of  it ;  and  Beatte,  accustomed 
when  among  the  Indians  to  live  for  months 
without  it,  considered  it  a  mere  article  of  lux- 
175 


1 76  Crayon 


ury.     "Bread,"  he  would  say  scornfully,  "is 
only  fit  for  a  child." 

About  a  quarter  before  eight  o'clock  we 
turned  our  backs  upon  the  Far  West,  and  set 
off  in  a  southeast  course,  along  a  gentle  valley. 
After  riding  a  few  miles,  Beatte,  who  kept 
parallel  with  us,  along  the  ridge  of  a  naked 
hill  to  our  right  called  out  and  made  signals, 
as  if  something  were  coming  round  the  hill  to 
intercept  us.  Some,  who  were  near  me,  cried 
out  that  it  was  a  party  of  Pawnees.  A  skirt 
of  thickets  hid  the  approach  of  the  supposed 
enemy  from  our  view.  We  heard  a  trampling 
among  the  brushwood.  My  horse  looked  tow 
ard  the  place,  snorted  and  pricked  up  his  ears, 
when  presently  a  couple  of  large  buffalo  bulls, 
who  had  been  alarmed  by  Beatte,  came  crash 
ing  through  the  brake,  and  making  directly 
towards  us.  At  sight  of  us  they  wheeled 
round,  and  scuttled  along  a  narrow  defile  of 
the  hill.  In  an  instant  half  a  score  of  rifles 
cracked  off ;  there  was  a  universal  whoop  and 
halloo,  and  away  went  half  the  troop,  helter- 
skelter  in  pursuit,  and  myself  among  the  num 
ber.  The  most  of  us  soon  pulled  up,  and  gave 
over  a  chase  which  led  through  birch  and  brier, 
and  break-neck  ravines.  Some  few  of  the 
rangers  persisted  for  a  time ;  but  eventually 
joined  the  line,  slowly  lagging  one  after 


Uour  on  tbe  prairies  177 


another.  One  of  them  returned  on  foot  ;  he 
had  been  thrown  while  in  full  chase  ;  his  rifle 
had  been  broken  in  the  fall,  and  his  horse,  re 
taining  the  spirit  of  the  rider,  had  kept  on  after 
the  buffalo.  It  was  a  melancholy  predicament 
to  be  reduced  to,  without  horse  or  weapon  in 
the  midst  of  the  Pawnee  hunting  grounds. 

For  niy  own  part,  I  had  been  fortunate 
enough  recently,  by  a  further  exchange,  to  get 
possession  of  the  best  horse  in  the  troop  ;  a 
full-blooded  sorrel  of  excellent  bottom,  beauti 
ful  form,  and  most  generous  qualities. 

In  such  a  situation,  it  almost  seems  as  if  a 
man  changes  his  nature  with  his  horse.  I  felt 
quite  like  another  being,  now  that  I  had  an 
animal  under  me,  spirited  yet  gentle,  docile  to 
a  remarkable  degree,  and  easy,  elastic,  and 
rapid  in  all  his  movements.  In  a  few  days  he 
became  almost  as  much  attached  to  me  as  a 
dog  ;  would  follow  me  when  I  dismounted, 
would  come  to  me  in  the  morning  to  be  noticed 
and  caressed  ;  and  would  put  his  muzzle  be 
tween  me  and  my  book,  as  I  sat  reading  at  the 
foot  of  a  tree.  The  feeling  I  had  for  this  my 
dumb  companion  of  the  prairies  gave  me  some 
faint  idea  of  that  attachment  the  Arab  is  said 
to  entertain  for  the  horse  that  has  borne  him 
about  the  deserts. 

After  riding  a  few  miles  farther,  we  came  to 

VOL.  I.—  12 


1 78  Crayon 


a  fine  meadow  with  a  broad  clear  stream  wind 
ing  through  it,  on  the  banks  of  which  there 
was  excellent  pasturage.  Here  we  at  once 
came  to  a  halt,  in  a  beautiful  grove  of  elms, 
on  the  site  of  an  old  Osage  encampment. 
Scarcely  had  we  dismounted,  when  a  universal 
firing  of  rifles  took  place  upon  a  large  flock  of 
turkeys,  scattered  about  the  grove,  which 
proved  to  be  a  favorite  roosting  place  for  these 
simple  birds.  They  flew  to  the  trees,  and  sat 
perched  upon  their  branches,  stretching  out 
their  long  necks,  and  gazing  in  stupid  aston 
ishment,  until  eighteen  of  them  were  shot 
down. 

In  the  height  of  the  carnage,  word  was 
brought  that  there  were  four  buffaloes  in  a 
neighboring  meadow.  The  turkeys  were  now 
abandoned  for  nobler  game.  The  tired  horses 
were  again  mounted,  and  urged  to  the  chase. 
In  a  little  while  we  came  in  sight  of  the  buffa 
loes,  looking  like  brown  hillocks  among  the 
long  green  herbage.  Beatte  endeavored  to  get 
ahead  of  them  and  turn  them  towards  us,  that 
the  inexperienced  hunters  might  have  a  chance. 
They  ran  round  the  base  of  a  rocky  hill,  that 
hid  us  from  the  sight.  Some  of  us  endeavored 
to  cut  across  the  hill,  but  became  entrapped  in 
a  thick  wood  matted  with  grapevines.  My 
horse,  who  under  his  former  rider  had  hunted 


Gouc  on  tbe  prairies  179 


the  buffalo,  seemed  as  much  excited  as  myself, 
and  endeavored  to  force  his  way  through  the 
bushes.  At  length  we  extricated  ourselves, 
and  galloping  over  the  hill,  I  found  our  little 
Frenchman  Tonish  curvetting  on  horseback 
round  a  great  buffalo  which  he  had  wounded 
too  severely  to  fly,  and  which  he  was  keeping 
employed  until  we  should  come  up.  There 
was  a  mixture  of  the  grand  and  the  comic  in 
beholding  this  tremendous  animal  and  his 
fantastic  assailant.  The  buffalo  stood  with  his 
shagged  front  always  presented  to  his  foe  ;  his 
mouth  open,  his  tongue  parched,  his  eyes  like 
coals  of  fire,  and  his  tail  erect  with  rage  ;  every 
now  and  then  he  would  make  a  faint  rush  upon 
his  foe,  who  easily  evaded  his  attack,  capering 
and  cutting  all  kinds  of  antics  before  him. 

We  now  made  repeated  shots  at  the  buffalo, 
but  they  glanced  into  his  mountain  of  flesh 
without  proving  mortal.  He  made  a  slow  and 
grand  retreat  into  the  shallow  river,  turning 
upon  his  assailants  whenever  they  pressed  upon 
him  ;  and  when  in  the  water,  took  his  stand 
there  as  if  prepared  to  sustain  a  siege.  A  rifle- 
ball,  however,  more  fatally  lodged,  sent  a 
tremor  through  his  frame.  He  turned  and 
attempted  to  wade  across  the  stream,  but  after 
tottering  a  few  paces,  slowly  fell  upon  his  side 
and  expired.  It  was  the  fall  of  a  hero,  and  we 


i80 


dragon 


felt  somewhat  ashamed  of  the  butchery  that 
had  effected  it ;  but,  after  the  first  shot  or  two, 
we  had  reconciled  it  to  our  feelings,  by  the  old 
plea  of  putting  the  poor  animal  out  of  his 
misery. 

Two  other  buffaloes  were  killed  this  evening, 
but  they  were  all  bulls,  the  flesh  of  which  is 
meagre  and  hard  at  this  season  of  the  year.  A 
fat  buck  yielded  us  more  savory  meat  for  our 
evening's  repast. 


Gbapter  £  £  ID. 

Ringing  the  Wild  Horse. 

WE  left  the  buffalo-camp  about  eight 
o'clock,  and  had  a  toilsome  and  har 
assing  march  of  two  hours,  over 
ridges  of  hills,  covered  with  a  ragged  meagre 
forest  of  scrub-oaks,  and  broken  by  deep  gul 
lies.  Among  the  oaks  I  observed  many  of  the 
most  diminutive  size;  some  not  above  a  foot 
high,  yet  bearing  abundance  of  small  acorns. 
The  whole  of  the  Cross  Timber,  in  fact, 
abounds  with  mast.  There  is  a  pine-oak  which 
produces  an  acorn  pleasant  to  the  taste,  and 
ripening  early  in  the  season. 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  came 
to  where  this  line  of  rugged  hills  swept  down 
into  a  valley,  through  which  flowed  the  north 
fork  of  the  Red  River.  A  beautiful  meadow 
about  half  a  mile  wide,  enamelled  with  yellow 
autumnal  flowers,  stretched  for  two  or  three 
miles  along  the  foot  of  the  hills,  bordered  on 
181 


182  dragon 


the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  whose  banks 
were  fringed  with  cotton  trees,  the  bright  foli 
age  of  which  refreshed  and  delighted  the  eye, 
after  being  wearied  by  the  contemplation  of 
monotonous  wastes  of  brown  forest. 

The  meadow  was  finely  diversified  by  groves 
and  clumps  of  trees,  so  happily  dispersed,  that 
they  seemed  as  if  set  out  by  the  hand  of  art. 
As  we  cast  our  eyes  over  this  fresh  and  de 
lightful  valley,  we  beheld  a  troop  of  wild 
horses,  quietly  grazing  on  a  green  lawn,  about 
a  mile  distant  to  our  right,  while  to  our  left, 
at  nearly  the  same  distance,  were  several  buffa 
loes,— some  feeding,  others  reposing  and  rumi 
nating  among  the  high  rich  herbage  under  the 
shade  of  a  clump  of  cotton -wood  trees.  The 
whole  had  the  appearance  of  a  broad  beautiful 
tract  of  pasture-land,  on  the  highly  ornamented 
estate  of  some  gentleman  farmer,  with  his 
cattle  grazing  about  the  lawns  and  meadows. 

A  council  of  war  was  now  held,  and  it  was 
determined  to  profit  by  the  present  favorable 
opportunity,  and  try  our  hand  at  the  grand 
hunting  manoeuvre,  which  is  called  ringing 
the  wild  horse.  This  requires  a  large  party  of 
horsemen,  well  mounted.  They  extend  them 
selves  in  each  direction,  singly,  at  certain  dis 
tances  apart,  and  gradually  form  a  ring  of  two 
or  three  miles  in  circumference,  so  as  to  sur- 


aour  on  tbe  prairies  183 


round  the  game.  This  has  to  be  done  with 
extreme  care,  for  the  wild  horse  is  the  most 
readily  alarmed  inhabitant  of  the  prairie,  and 
can  scent  a  hunter  at  a  great  distance,  if  to 
windward. 

The  ring  being  formed,  two  or  three  ride 
towards  the  horses,  who  start  off  in  an  opposite 
direction.  Whenever  they  approach  the  bounds 
of  the  ring,  however,  a  huntsman  presents  him 
self  and  turns  them  from  their  course.  In  this 
way  they  are  checked  and  driven  back  at  every 
point  ;  and  kept  galloping  round  and  round 
this  magic  circle,  until,  being  completely  tired 
down,  it  is  easy  for  the  hunters  to  ride  up  be 
side  them,  and  throw  the  lariat  over  their 
heads.  The  prime  horses  of  most  speed,  cour 
age,  and  bottom,  however,  are  apt  to  break 
through  and  escape,  so  that,  in  general,  it  is 
the  second-rate  horses  that  are  taken. 

Preparations  were  now  made  for  a  hunt  of 
the  kind.  The  pack-horses  were  taken  into 
the  woods  and  firmly  tied  to  trees,  lest,  in  a 
rush  of  the  wild  horses,  they  should  break 
away  with  them.  Twenty  -five  men  were  then 
sent,  under  the  command  of  a  lieutenant,  to 
steal  along  the  edge  of  the  valley  within  the 
strip  of  wood  that  skirted  the  hills.  They  were 
to  station  themselves  about  fifty  yards  apart, 
within  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and  not  advance 


184  dragon 


or  show  themselves  until  the  horses  dashed  in 
that  direction.  Twenty-five  men  were  sent 
across  the  valley,  to  steal  in  like  manner  along 
the  river  bank  that  bordered  the  opposite  side, 
and  to  station  themselves  among  the  trees.  A 
third  party,  of  about  the  same  number,  was  to 
form  a  line  stretching  across  the  lower  part  of 
the  valley,  so  as  to  connect  the  two  wings. 
Beatte  and  our  other  half-breed,  Antoine,  to 
gether  with  the  ever-officious  Tonish,  were  to 
make  a  circuit  through  the  woods,  so  as  to  get 
to  the  upper  part  of  the  valley,  in  the  rear  of 
the  horses,  and  to  drive  them  forward  into  the 
kind  of  sack  that  we  had  formed,  while  the 
two  wings  should  join  behind  them  and  make 
a  complete  circle. 

The  flanking  parties  were  quietly  extending 
themselves,  out  of  sight,  on  each  side  of  the 
valley,  and  the  residue  were  stretching  them 
selves,  like  the  links  of  a  chain,  across  it, 
when  the  wild  horses  gave  signs  that  they 
scented  an  enemy ;  snuffing  the  air,  snorting 
and  looking  about.  At  length  they  pranced 
off  slowly  toward  the  river,  and  disappeared 
behind  a  green  bank.  Here,  had  the  regula 
tions  of  the  chase  been  observed,  they  would 
have  been  quietly  checked  and  turned  back 
by  the  advance  of  a  hunter  from  among  the 
trees;  unluckily,  however,  we  had  our  wild- 


aour  on  tbe  iprairtes  185 


fire  Jack-o'-lantern  little  Frenchman  to  deal 
with.  Instead  of  keeping  quietly  up  the  right 
side  of  the  valley,  to  get  above  the  horses,  the 
moment  he  saw  them  move  toward  the  river 
he  broke  out  of  the  covert  of  the  woods,  and 
dashed  furiously  across  the  plain,  in  pursuit 
of  them,  being  mounted  on  one  of  the  led 
horses  belonging  to  the  Count.  This  put  an  end 
to  all  system.  The  half-breeds  and  half  a  score 
of  rangers  joined  in  the  chase.  Away  they  all 
went  over  the  green  bank  ;  in  a  moment  or  two 
the  wild  horses  reappeared,  and  came  thunder 
ing  down  the  valley,  with  French-man,  half- 
breeds,  and  rangers  galloping  and  yelling  like 
devils  behind  them.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
line  drawn  across  the  valley  attempted  to 
check  and  turn  back  the  fugitives.  They 
were  too  hotly  pressed  by  their  pursuers  ;  in 
their  panic  they  dashed  through  the  line,  and 
clattered  down  the  plain.  The  whole  troop 
joined  in  the  headlong  chase,  some  of  the 
rangers  without  hats  or  caps,  their  hair  flying 
about  their  ears  ;  others  with  handkerchiefs 
tied  round  their  heads.  The  buffaloes,  who 
had  been  calmly  ruminating  among  the  herb 
age,  heaved  up  their  huge  forms,  gazed  for  a 
moment  with  astonishment  at  the  tempest  that 
came  scouring  down  the  meadow,  then  turned 
and  took  to  heavy-rolling  flight.  They  were 


186  Crayon  /BMscellartE 


soon  overtaken  :  the  promiscuous  throng  were 
pressed  together  by  the  contracting  sides  of 
the  valley,  and  away  they  went,  pell-mell, 
hurry-scurry,  wild  buffalo,  wild-horse,  wild 
huntsman,  with  clang  and  clattering,  and 
whoop  and  halloo,  that  made  the  forests  ring. 
At  length  the  buffaloes  turned  into  a  green 
brake  on  the  river-bank,  while  the  horses 
dashed  up  a  narrow  defile  of  the  hills,  with 
their  pursuers  close  at  their  heels.  Beatte 
passed  several  of  them,  having  fixed  his  eye 
upon  a  fine  Pawnee  horse,  that  had  his  ears 
slit,  and  saddle-marks  upon  his  back.  He 
pressed  him  gallantly,  but  lost  him  in  the 
woods.  Among  the  wild  horses  was  a  fine 
black  mare,  far  gone  with  foal.  In  scrambling 
up  the  defile,  she  tripped  and  fell.  A  young 
ranger  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  seized  her 
by  the  mane  and  muzzle.  Another  ranger 
dismounted,  and  came  to  his  assistance.  The 
mare  struggled  fiercely,  kicking  and  biting, 
and  striking  with  her  forefeet. ;  but  a  noose 
was  slipped  over  her  head,  and  her  struggles 
were  in  vain.  It  was  some  time,  however, 
before  she  gave  over  rearing  and  plunging, 
and  lashing  out  with  her  feet  on  every  side. 
The  two  rangers  then  led  her  along  the  valley 
by  two  long  lariats,  which  enabled  them  to 
keep  at  a  sufiicient  distance  on  each  side  to  be 


tTour  on  tbe  prairies  187 


out  of  the  reach  of  her  hoofs  ;  and  whenever 
she  struck  out  in  one  direction,  she  was  jerked 
in  the  other.  In  this  way  her  spirit  was 
gradually  subdued. 

As  to  little  Scaramouch  Tonish,  who  had 
marred  the  whole  scene  by  his  precipitancy, 
he  had  been  more  successful  than  he  deserved, 
having  managed  to  catch  a  beautiful  cream- 
colored  colt,  about  seven  months  old,  which 
had  not  strength  to  keep  up  with  his  com 
panions.  The  mercurial  little  Frenchman 
was  beside  himself  with  exultation.  It  was 
amusing  to  see  him  with  his  prize.  The  colt 
would  rear  and  kick,  and  struggle  to  get  free, 
when  Tonish  would  take  him  about  the  neck, 
wrestle  with  him,  jump  on  his  back,  and  cut 
as  many  antics  as  a  monkey  with  a  kitten. 
Nothing  surprised  me  more,  however,  than  to 
witness  how  soon  these  poor  animals,  thus 
taken  from  the  unbounded  freedom  of  the 
prairie,  yielded  to  the  dominion  of  man.  In 
the  course  of  two  or  three  days  the  mare  and 
colt  went  with  the  led  horses,  and  became 
quite  docile. 


Cbaptet  £  £  OT. 

Fording  of  the  North  Fork  —  Dreary  Scenery  of  the 
Cross  Timber  —  Scamper  of  Horses  in  the  Night  — 
Osage  War-Party  —  Effects  of  a  Peace  Harangue  — 
Buffalo—  Wild  Horse. 


BSUMING  our  march,  we  forded  the 
North  Fork,  a  rapid  stream,  and  of  a 
purity  seldom  to  be  found  in  the  rivers 
of  the  prairies.  It  evidently  had  its  sources 
in  high  land,  well  supplied  with  springs. 
After  crossing  the  river,  we  again  ascended 
among  hills,  from  one  of  which  we  had  an 
extensive  view  over  this  belt  of  cross  timber, 
and  a  cheerless  prospect  it  was,  —  hill  beyond 
hill,  forest  beyond  forest,  all  of  one  sad  russet 
hue,  excepting  that  here  and  there  a  line  of 
green  cotton-wood  trees,  sycamores,  and  wil 
lows  marked  the  course  of  some  streamlet 
through  a  valley.  A  procession  of  buffaloes, 
moving  slowly  up  the  profile  of  one  of  those 

188 


B  Cour  on  tbe  prairfea  189 

distant  hills,  formed  a  characteristic  object  in 
the  savage  scene.  To  the  left,  the  eye  stretched 
beyond  this  rugged  wilderness  of  hills,  and 
ravines,  and  ragged  forests,  to  a  prairie  about 
ten  miles  off,  extending  in  a  clear  blue  line 
along  the  horizon.  It  was  like  looking  from 
among  rocks  and  breakers  upon  a  distant  tract 
of  tranquil  ocean.  Unluckily,  our  route  did 
not  lie  in  that  direction ;  we  still  had  to 
traverse  many  a  weary  mile  of  the  "cross 
timber." 

We  encamped  towards  evening  in  a  valley, 
beside  a  scanty  pool,  under  a  scattered  grove 
of  elms,  the  upper  branches  of  which  were 
fringed  with  tufts  of  the  mystic  mistletoe.  In 
the  course  of  the  night,  the  wild  colt  whinnied 
repeatedly ;  and  about  two  hours  before  day 
there  was  a  sudden  stampede,  or  rush  of  horses, 
along  the  purlieus  of  the  camp,  with  a  snorting 
and  neighing,  and  clattering  of  hoofs,  that  star 
tled  most  of  the  rangers  from  their  sleep,  who 
listened  in  silence,  until  the  sound  died  away 
like  the  rushing  of  a  blast.  As  usual,  the  noise 
was  at  first  attributed  to  some  party  of  maraud 
ing  Indians ;  but  as  the  day  dawned,  a  couple 
of  wild  horses  were  seen  in  a  neighboring 
meadow,  which  scoured  off  on  being  ap 
proached.  It  was  now  supposed  that  a  gang 
of  them  had  dashed  through  our  camp  in  the 


Crayon 


night.  A  general  mustering  of  our  horses 
took  place;  many  were  found  scattered  to  a 
considerable  distance,  and  several  were  not  to 
be  found.  The  prints  of  their  hoofs,  however, 
appeared  deeply  dinted  in  the  soil,  leading  off 
at  full  speed  into  the  waste  ;  and  their  owners, 
putting  themselves  on  the  trail,  set  off  in 
weary  search  of  them. 

We  had  a  ruddy  daybreak,  but  the  morning 
gathered  up  gray  and  lowering,  with  indica 
tions  of  an  autumnal  storm.  We  resumed  our 
march  silently  and  seriously,  through  a  rough 
and  cheerless  country,  from  the  highest  points 
of  which  we  could  descry  large  prairies  stretch 
ing  indefinitely  westward.  After  travelling 
for  two  or  three  hours,  as  we  were  traversing 
a  withered  prairie  resembling  a  great  brown 
heath,  we  beheld  seven  Osage  warriors  ap 
proaching  at  a  distance.  The  sight  of  any 
human  being  in  this  lonely  wilderness  was 
interesting  ;  it  was  like  speaking  a  ship  at 
sea.  One  of  the  Indians  took  the  lead  of  his 
companions,  and  advanced  towards  us,  with 
head  erect,  chest  thrown  forward,  and  a  free 
and  noble  mien.  He  was  a  fine-looking  fel 
low,  dressed  in  scarlet  frock  and  fringed  leg- 
gins  of  deer-skin.  His  head  was  decorated 
with  a  white  tuft,  and  he  stepped  forward  with 
something  of  a  martial  air,  swaying  his  bow 


tTour  on  tbe  prairies  191 


and  arrows  in  one  hand.  We  held  some  con 
versation  with  him  through  our  interpreter, 
Beatte,  and  found  that  he  and  his  companions 
had  been  with  the  main  part  of  their  tribe 
hunting  the  buffalo,  and  had  met  with  great 
success  ;  and  he  informed  us  that  in  the  course 
of  another  day's  march  we  would  reach  the 
prairies  on  the  banks  of  the  Grand  Canadian, 
and  find  plenty  of  game.  He  added,  that,  as 
their  hunt  was  over,  and  the  hunters  on  their 
return  homeward,  he  and  his  comrades  had 
set  out  on  a  war  party,  to  waylay  and  hover 
about  some  Pawnee  camp,  in  hopes  of  carry 
ing  off  scalps  or  horses. 

By  this  time  his  companions,  who  at  first 
stood  aloof,  joined  him.  Three  of  them  had 
indifferent  fowling-pieces  ;  the  rest  were  armed 
with  bows  and  arrows.  I  could  not  but  ad 
mire  the  finely-shaped  heads  and  busts  of  these 
savages,  and  their  graceful  attitudes  and 
expressive  gestures,  as  they  stood  convers 
ing  with  our  interpreter,  and  surrounded 
by  a  cavalcade  of  rangers.  We  endeavored 
to  get  one  of  them  to  join  us,  as  we  were 
desirous  of  seeing  him  hunt  the  buffalo  with 
his  bow  and  arrow.  He  seemed  at  first  in 
clined  to  do  so,  but  was  dissuaded  by  his 
companions. 

The  worthy  Commissioner  now  remembered 


dragon  /HMscellang 


his  mission  as  pacificator,  and  made  a  speech, 
exhorting  them  to  abstain  from  all  offensive 
acts  against  the  Pawnees ;  informing  them  of 
the  plan  of  their  father  at  Washington,  to  put 
an  end  to  all  war  among  his  red  children  ;  and 
assuring  them  that  he  was  sent  to  the  frontier 
to  establish  a  universal  peace.  He  told  them, 
therefore,  to  return  quietly  to  their  homes, 
with  the  certainty  that  the  Pawnees  would  no 
longer  molest  them,  but  would  soon  regard 
them  as  brothers. 

The  Indians  listened  to  the  speech  with  their 
customary  silence  and  decorum ;  after  which, 
exchanging  a  few  words  among  themselves, 
they  bade  us  farewell,  and  pursued  their  way 
across  the  prairie. 

Fancying  that  I  saw  a  lurking  smile  in  the 
countenance  of  our  interpreter,  Beatte,  I  pri 
vately  inquired  what  the  Indians  had  said  to 
each  other  after  hearing  the  speech.  The 
leader,  he  said,  had  observed  to  his  compan 
ions,  that,  as  their  great  father  intended  so 
soon  to  put  an  end  to  all  warfare,  it  behooved 
them  to  make  the  most  of  the  little  time  that 
was  left  them.  So  they  had  departed,  with 
redoubled  zeal,  to  pursue  their  project  of 
horse-stealing  ! 

We  had  not  long  parted  from  the  Indians 
before  we  discovered  three  buffaloes  among 


B  3our  on  tbe  prairies  193 

the  thickets  of  a  marshy  valley  to  our  left.  I 
set  off  with  the  Captain  and  several  rangers, 
in  pursuit  of  them.  Stealing  through  a  strag 
gling  grove,  the  Captain,  who  took  the  lead, 
got  within  rifle  shot,  and  wounded  one  of  them 
in  the  flank.  They  all  three  made  off  in  head 
long  panic,  through  thickets  and  brushwood, 
and  swamp  and  mire,  bearing  down  every  ob 
stacle  by  their  immense  weight.  The  Captain 
and  rangers  soon  gave  up  a  chase  which  threat 
ened  to  knock  up  their  horses  ;  I  had  got  upon 
the  traces  of  the  wounded  bull,  however,  and 
was  in  hopes  of  getting  near  enough  to  use  my 
pistols,  the  only  weapons  with  which  I  was 
provided;  but  before  I  could  effect  it,  he 
reached  the  foot  of  a  rocky  hill  covered  with 
post-oak  and  brambles,  and  plunged  forward, 
dashing  and  crashing  along,  with  neck-or- 
nothing-fury,  where  it  would  have  been  mad 
ness  to  have  followed  him. 

The  chase  had  led  me  so  far  on  one  side, 
that  it  was  some  time  before  I  regained  the 
trail  of  our  troop.  As  I  was  slowly  ascending 
a  hill,  a  fine  black  mare  came  prancing  round 
the  summit,  and  was  close  to  me  before  she 
was  aware.  At  sight  of  me  she  started  back, 
then  turning,  swept  at  full  speed  down  into 
the  valley,  and  up  the  opposite  hill,  with  flow 
ing  mane  and  tail,  and  action  free  as  air.  I 

VOL.  I.— 13 


194 


Crayon 


gazed  after  her  as  long  as  she  was  in  sight, 
and  breathed  a  wish  that  so  glorious  an  ani 
mal  might  never  come  under  the  degrading 
thraldom  of  whip  and  curb,  but  remain  a  free 
rover  of  the  prairies. 


Cbapter 


Foul-weather  Encampment  —  Anecdotes  of  Bear-Hunt 

ing  —  Indian  Notions  About  Omens  — 

Scruples  Respecting  the  Dead. 

ON  overtaking  the  troop,  I  found  it  en 
camping  in  a  rich  bottom  of  woodland, 
traversed  by  a  small  stream,  running 
between  deep  crumbling  banks.  A  sharp  crack 
ing  off  of  rifles  was  kept  up  for  some  time  in 
various  directions,  upon  a  numerous  flock  of 
turkeys,  scampering  among  the  thickets,  or 
perched  upon  the  trees.  We  had  not  been 
long  at  a  halt,  when  a  drizzling  rain  ushered 
in  the  autumnal  storm  that  had  been  brewing. 
Preparations  were  immediately  made  to  weather 
it  ;  our  tent  was  pitched,  and  our  saddles, 
saddle-bags,  packages  of  coffee,  sugar,  salt, 
and  everything  else  that  could  be  damaged  by 
the  rain,  were  gathered  under  its  shelter.  Our 
men,  Beatte,  Tonish,  and  Antoine,  drove  stakes 
with  forked  ends  into  the  ground,  laid  poles 


196  Crayon 


across  them  for  rafters,  and  thus  made  a  shed 
or  pent-house,  covered  with  bark  and  skins, 
sloping  towards  the  wind  and  open  towards 
the  fire.  The  rangers  formed  similar  shelters 
of  bark  and  skins,  or  of  blankets  stretched  on 
poles,  supported  by  forked  stakes,  with  great 
fires  in  front. 

These  precautions  were  well-timed.  The 
rain  set  in  sullenly  and  steadily,  and  kept  on, 
with  slight  intermissions,  for  two  days.  The 
brook,  which  flowed  peaceably  on  our  arrival, 
swelled  into  a  turbid  and  boiling  torrent,  and 
the  forest  became  little  better  than  a  mere 
swamp.  The  men  gathered  under  their  shel 
ters  of  skins  and  blankets,  or  sat  cowering 
round  their  fires  ;  while  columns  of  smoke 
curling  up  among  the  trees,  and  diffusing  them 
selves  in  the  air,  spread  a  blue  haze  through 
the  woodland.  Our  poor,  way-worn  horses, 
reduced  by  weary  travel  and  scanty  pasturage, 
lost  all  remaining  spirit,  and  stood,  with  droop 
ing  heads,  flagging  ears,  and  half-closed  eyes, 
dozing  and  steaming  in  the  rain  ;  while  the 
yellow  autumnal  leaves,  at  every  shaking 
of  the  breeze,  came  wavering  down  around 
them. 

Notwithstanding  the  bad  weather,  however, 
our  hunters  were  not  idle,  but  during  the  in 
tervals  of  the  rain  sallied  forth  on  horseback 


Gour  on  tbe  prafrtes  197 


to  prowl  through  the  woodland.  Every  now 
and  then  the  sharp  report  of  a  distant  rifle 
boded  the  death  of  a  deer.  Venison  in  abun 
dance  was  brought  in.  Some  busied  themselves 
under  the  sheds,  flaying  and  cutting  up  the 
carcasses,  or  round  the  fires  with  spits  and 
camp  kettles,  and  a  rude  kind  of  feasting,  or 
rather  gormandizing,  prevailed  throughout  the 
camp.  The  axe  was  continually  at  work,  and 
wearied  the  forest  with  its  echoes.  Crash  ! 
some  mighty  tree  would  come  down  ;  in  a  few 
minutes  its  limbs  would  be  blazing  and  crack 
ling  on  the  huge  camp-fires,  with  some  luckless 
deer  roasting  before  it,  that  had  once  sported 
beneath  its  shade. 

The  change  of  weather  had  taken  sharp 
hold  of  our  little  Frenchman.  His  meagre 
frame,  composed  of  bones  and  whip-cord,  was 
racked  with  rheumatic  pains  and  twinges.  He 
had  the  toothache  —  the  earache  —  his  face  was 
tied  up  —  he  had  shooting  pains  in  every  limb  ; 
yet  all  seemed  but  to  increase  his  restless  activ 
ity,  and  he  was  in  an  incessant  fidget  about 
the  fire,  roasting,  and  stewing,  and  groaning, 
and  scolding,  and  swearing. 

Our  man  Beatte  returned,  grim  and  mortified, 
from  hunting.  He  had  come  upon  a  bear  of 
formidable  dimensions,  and  wounded  him  with 
a  rifle-shot.  The  bear  took  to  the  brook, 


Crayon 


which  was  swollen  and  rapid.  Beatte  dashed 
in  after  him  and  assailed  him  in  the  rear  with 
his  hunting  knife.  At  every  blow  the  bear 
turned  furiously  upon  him,  with  a  terrific  dis 
play  of  white  teeth.  Beatte,  having  a  foot 
hold  in  the  brook,  was  enabled  to  push  him 
off  with  his  rifle,  and,  when  he  turned  to 
swim,  would  flounder  after,  and  attempt  to 
hamstring  him.  The  bear,  however,  succeeded 
in  scrambling  off  among  the  thickets,  and 
Beatte  had  to  give  up  the  chase. 

This  adventure,  if  it  produced  no  game, 
brought  up  at  least  several  anecdotes,  round 
the  evening  fire,  relative  to  bear  hunting,  in 
which  the  grizzly  bear  figured  conspicuously. 
This  powerful  and  ferocious  animal  is  a  favorite 
theme  of  hunter's  story,  both  among  red  and 
white  men  ;  and  his  enormous  claws  are  worn 
round  the  neck  of  an  Indian  brave,  as  a  trophy 
more  honorable  than  a  human  scalp.  He  is  now 
scarcely  seen  below  the  upper  prairies,  and  the 
skirts  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Other  bears 
are  formidable  when  wounded  and  provoked, 
but  seldom  make  battle  when  allowed  to  escape. 
The  grizzly  bear  alone,  of  all  the  animals  of 
our  Western  wilds,  is  prone  to  unprovoked 
hostility.  His  prodigious  size  and  strength 
make  him  a  formidable  opponent ;  and  his 
great  tenacity  of  life  often  baffles  the  skill  of 


ZTour  on  tbe  pratrfes  199 


the  hunter,  notwithstanding  repeated  shots  of 
the  rifle  and  wounds  of  the  hunting  knife. 

One  of  the  anecdotes  related  on  this  occasion 
gave  a  picture  of  the  accidents  and  hard  shifts 
to  which  our  frontier  rovers  are  inured.  A 
hunter,  while  in  pursuit  of  a  deer,  fell  into 
one  of  those  deep  funnel-shaped  pits  formed 
on  the  prairies  by  the  settling  of  the  waters 
after  heavy  rains,  known  by  the  name  of  sink 
holes.  To  his  great  horror  he  came  in  contact, 
at  the  bottom,  with  a  huge  grizzly  bear.  The 
monster  grappled  him  ;  a  deadly  contest  ensued, 
in  which  the  poor  hunter  was  severely  torn  and 
bitten,  and  had  a  leg  and  an  arm  broken,  but 
succeeded  in  killing  his  rugged  foe.  For  several 
days  he  remained  at  the  bottom  of  the  pit,  too 
much  crippled  to  move,  and  subsisting  on  the 
raw  flesh  of  the  bear,  during  which  time  he 
kept  his  wounds  open,  that  they  might  heal 
gradually  and  effectually.  He  was  at  length 
enabled  to  scramble  to  the  top  of  the  pit,  and 
so  out  upon  the  open  prairie.  With  great 
difficulty  he  crawled  to  a  ravine  formed  by  a 
stream  then  nearly  dry.  Here  he  took  a  de 
licious  draught  of  water,  which  infused  new 
life  into  him  ;  then  dragging  himself  along 
from  pool  to  pool,  he  supported  himself  by 
small  fish  and  frogs. 

One  day  he  saw  a  wolf  hunt  down  and  kill 


200  dragon 


a  deer  in  a  neighboring  prairie.  He  immedi 
ately  crawled  forth  from  a  ravine,  drove  off  the 
wolf,  and,  lying  down  beside  the  carcass  of  the 
deer,  remained  there  until  he  made  several 
hearty  meals,  by  which  his  strength  was  much 
recruited. 

Returning  to  the  ravine,  he  pursued  the 
course  of  the  brook,  until  it  grew  to  be  a  con 
siderable  stream.  Down  this  he  floated,  until 
he  came  to  where  it  emptied  into  the  Missis 
sippi.  Just  at  the  mouth  of  the  stream  he 
found  a  forked  tree,  which  he  launched  with 
some  difficulty,  and,  getting  astride  of  it,  com 
mitted  himself  to  the  current  of  the  mighty 
river.  In  this  way  he  floated  along  until  he 
arrived  opposite  the  fort  at  Council  Bluffs. 
Fortunately  he  arrived  there  in  the  daytime, 
otherwise  he  might  have  floated  unnoticed  past 
this  solitary  post,  and  perished  in  the  idle 
waste  of  waters.  Being  descried  from  the  fort, 
a  canoe  was  sent  to  his  relief,  and  he  was 
brought  to  shore  more  dead  than  alive,  where 
he  soon  recovered  from  his  wounds,  but  re 
mained  maimed  for  life. 

Our  man  Beatte  had  come  out  of  his  contest 
with  the  bear  very  much  worsted  and  discom 
fited.  His  drenching  in  the  brook,  together 
with  the  recent  change  of  weather,  had  brought 
on  rheumatic  pains  in  his  limbs,  to  which  he 


Gout  on  tbe  prairies  201 


is  subject.  Though  ordinarily  a  fellow  of  un 
daunted  spirit,  and  above  all  hardship,  yet  he 
now  sat  down  by  the  fire,  gloomy  and  dejected, 
and  for  once  gave  way  to  repining.  Though 
in  the  prime  of  life,  and  of  a  robust  frame  and 
apparently  iron  constitution,  yet  by  his  own 
account  he  was  little  better  than  a  mere  wreck. 
He  was,  in  fact,  a  living  monument  of  the 
hardships  of  wild  frontier  life.  Baring  his  left 
arm,  he  showed  it  warped  and  contracted  by  a 
former  attack  of  rheumatism, — a  malady  with 
which  the  Indians  are  often  afflicted,  for  their 
exposure  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  elements 
does  not  produce  that  perfect  hardihood  and 
insensibility  to  the  changes  of  the  seasons  that 
many  are  apt  to  imagine.  He  bore  the  scars 
of  various  maims  and  bruises,  some  received 
in  hunting,  some  in  Indian  warfare.  His  right 
arm  had  been  broken  by  a  fall  from  his  horse  ; 
at  another  time  his  steed  had  fallen  with  him, 
and  crushed  his  left  leg. 

"  I  am  all  broke  to  pieces  and  good  for  noth 
ing,"  said  he ;  "I  no  care  now  what  happen 
to  me  any  more."  "However,"  added  he, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  "  for  all  that,  it  would 
take  a  pretty  strong  man  to  put  me  down, 
anyhow." 

I  drew  from  him  various  particulars  concern 
ing  himself,  which  served  to  raise  him  in  my 


202  Crayon 


estimation.  His  residence  was  on  the  Neosho, 
in  an  Osage  hamlet  or  neighborhood,  under 
the  superintendence  of  a  worthy  missionary 
from  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  by  the  name 
of  Requa,  who  was  endeavoring  to  instruct  the 
savages  in  the  art  of  agriculture,  and  to  make 
husbandmen  and  herdsmen  of  them.  I  had 
visited  this  agricultural  mission  of  Requa  in 
the  course  of  my  recent  tour  along  the  frontier, 
and  had  considered  it  more  likely  to  produce 
solid  advantages  to  the  poor  Indians  than  any 
of  the  mere  praying  and  preaching  missions 
along  the  border. 

In  this  neighborhood,  Pierre  Beatte  had  his 
little  farm,  his  Indian  wife,  and  his  half-breed 
children,  and  aided  Mr.  Requa  in  his  endeavors 
to  civilize  and  meliorate  the  condition  of  the 
Osage  tribe.  Beatte  had  been  brought  up  a 
Catholic,  and  was  inflexible  in  his  religious 
faith  ;  he  could  not  pray  with  Mr.  Requa,  he 
said,  but  he  could  work  with  him,  and  he 
evinced  a  zeal  for  the  good  of  his  savage  rela 
tions  and  neighbors.  Indeed,  though  his  father 
had  been  French,  and  he  himself  had  been 
brought  up  in  communion  with  the  whites,  he 
evidently  was  more  of  an  Indian  in  his  tastes, 
and  his  heart  yearned  towards  his  mother's 
nation.  When  he  talked  to  me  of  the  wrongs 
and  insults  that  the  poor  Indians  suffered  in 


<Tour  on  tbe  prairies  203 


their  intercourse  with  the  rough  settlers  on 
the  frontier,  —  when  he  described  the  precarious 
and  degraded  state  of  the  Osage  tribe,  dimin 
ished  in  numbers,  broken  in  spirit,  and  almost 
living  on  sufference  in  the  land  where  they 
once  figured  so  heroically,  —  I  could  see  his 
veins  swell,  and  his  nostrils  distend  with 
indignation  ;  but  he  would  check  the  feeling 
with  a  strong  exertion  of  Indian  self-com 
mand,  and,  in  a  manner,  drive  it  back  into  his 
bosom. 

He  did  not  hesitate  to  relate  an  instance 
wherein  he  had  joined  his  kindred  Osages  in 
pursuing  and  avenging  themselves  on  a  party 
of  white  men  who  had  committed  a  flagrant 
outrage  upon  them  ;  and  I  found,  in  the  en 
counter  that  took  place,  Beatte  had  shown  him 
self  the  complete  Indian. 

He  had  more  than  once  accompanied  his 
Osage  relations  in  their  wars  with  the  Pawnees, 
and  related  a  skirmish  which  took  place  on 
the  borders  of  these  very  hunting  grounds,  in 
which  several  Pawnees  were  killed.  We  should 
pass  near  the  place,  he  said,  in  the  course 
of  our  tour,  and  the  unburied  bones  and 
skulls  of  the  slain  were  still  to  be  seen  there. 
The  surgeon  of  the  troop,  who  was  present  at 
our  conversation,  pricked  up  his  ears  at  this 
intelligence.  He  was  something  of  a  phrenolo- 


204  Crayon 


gist,  and  offered  Beatte  a  handsome  reward  if 
he  would  procure  him  one  of  the  skulls. 

Beatte  regarded  him  for  a  moment  with  a 
look  of  stern  surprise. 

' '  No  !  "  said  he,  at  length,  ' '  dat  too  bad  !  I 
have  heart  strong  enough — I  no  care  kill,  but 
let  the  dead  alone  !  ' ' 

He  added,  that  once,  in  travelling  with  a 
party  of  white  men,  he  had  slept  in  the  same 
tent  with  a  doctor,  and  found  that  he  had  a 
Pawnee  skull  among  his  baggage  :  he  at  once 
renounced  the  doctor's  tent,  and  his  fellowship. 
"  He  try  to  coax  me,"  said  Beatte,  "  but  I  say 
no,  we  must  part — I  no  keep  such  company. ' ' 

In  the  temporary  depression  of  his  spirits, 
Beatte  gave  way  to  those  superstitious  fore 
bodings  to  which  Indians  are  prone.  He  had 
sat  for  some  time,  with  his  cheek  upon  his 
hand,  gazing  into  the  fire.  I  found  his  thoughts 
were  wandering  back  to  his  humble  home,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Neosho  ;  he  was  sure,  he  said, 
that  he  should  find  some  one  of  his  family  ill, 
or  dead,  on  his  return  ;  his  left  eye  had  twitched 
and  twinkled  for  two  days  past ;  an  omen 
which  always  boded  some  misfortune  of  the 
kind. 

Such  are  the  trivial  circumstances  which, 
when  magnified  into  omens,  will  shake  the 
souls  of  these  men  of  iron.  The  least  sign  of 


ttour  on  tbe  prairies  205 


mystic  and  sinister  portent  is  sufficient  to  turn 
a  hunter  or  a  warrior  from  his  course,  or  to  fill 
his  mind  with  apprehensions  of  impending 
evil.  It  is  this  superstitious  propensity,  com 
mon  to  the  solitary  and  savage  rovers  of  the 
wilderness,  that  gives  such  powerful  influence 
to  the  prophet  and  the  dreamer. 

The  Osages,  with  whom  Beatte  had  passed 
much  of  his  life,  retain  these  superstitious 
fancies  and  rites  in  much  of  their  original  force. 
They  all  believe  in  the  existence  of  the  soul 
after  its  separation  from  the  body,  and  that  it 
carries  with  it  all  its  mortal  tastes  and  habi 
tudes.  At  an  Osage  village  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Beatte,  one  of  the  chief  warriors  lost 
an  only  child,  a  beautiful  girl,  of  a  very  tender 
age.  All  her  playthings  were  buried  with  her. 
Her  favorite  little  horse,  also,  was  killed,  and 
laid  in  the  grave  beside  her,  that  she  might 
have  it  to  ride  in  the  land  of  spirits. 

I  will  add  here  a  little  story,  which  I  picked 
up  in  the  course  of  my  tour  through  Beatte'  s 
country,  and  which  illustrates  the  superstitions 
of  his  Osage  kindred.  A  large  party  of  Osages 
had  been  encamped  for  some  time  on  the  bor 
ders  of  a  fine  stream  called  the  Nickanansa. 
Among  them  was  a  young  hunter,  one  of  the 
bravest  and  most  graceful  of  the  tribe,  who 
was  to  be  married  to  an  Osage  girl,  who,  for 


206  Crayon 


her  beauty,  was  called  the  Flower  of  the 
Prairies.  The  young  hunter  left  her  for  a  time 
among  her  relatives  in  the  encampment,  and 
went  to  St.  Louis,  to  dispose  of  the  products 
of  his  hunting,  and  purchase  ornaments  for  his 
bride.  After  an  absence  of  some  weeks,  he 
returned  to  the  banks  of  the  Nickanansa,  but 
the  camp  was  no  longer  there  ;  the  bare  frames 
of  the  lodges  and  the  brands  of  extinguished 
fires  alone  marked  the  place.  At  a  distance 
he  beheld  a  female  seated,  as  if  weeping,  by 
the  side  of  the  stream.  It  was  his  affianced 
bride.  He  ran  to  embrace  her,  but  she  turned 
mournfully  away.  He  dreaded  lest  some  evil 
had  befallen  the  camp. 

11  Where  are  our  people  ?  "  cried  he. 

"  They  are  gone  to  the  banks  of  the  Wag- 
rushka." 

11  And  what  art  thou  doing  here  alone  ?  " 

"  Waiting  for  thee." 

"  Then  let  us  hasten  to  join  our  people  on 
the  banks  of  the  Wagrushka. ' ' 

He  gave  her  his  pack  to  carry,  and  walked 
ahead,  according  to  the  Indian  custom. 

They  came  to  where  the  smoke  of  the  distant 
camp  was  seen  rising  from  the  woody  margin 
of  the  stream.  The  girl  seated  herself  at  the 
foot  of  a  tree.  "It  is  not  proper  for  us  to  re 
turn  together,''  said  she  ;  "  I  will  wait  here." 


S.  tTour  on  tbe  prairies  207 

The  young  hunter  proceeded  to  the  camp 
alone,  and  was  received  by  his  relations  with 
gloomy  countenances. 

"What  evil  has  happened,"  said  he,  "  that 
ye  are  all  so  sad  ? ' ' 

No  one  replied. 

He  turned  to  his  favorite  sister,  and  bade 
her  go  forth,  seek  his  bride,  and  conduct  her 
to  the  camp. 

"  Alas  !  "  cried  she,  "how  shall  I  seek  her  ? 
She  died  a  few  days  since. ' ' 

The  relations  of  the  young  girl  now  sur 
rounded  him,  weeping  and  wailing ;  but  he 
refused  to  believe  the  dismal  tidings.  "  But  a 
few  moments  since, ' '  cried  he,  * '  I  left  her  alone 
and  in  health  ;  come  with  me,  and  I  will  con 
duct  you  to  her." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  tree  where  she  had 
seated  herself,  but  she  was  no  longer  there,  and 
his  pack  lay  on  the  ground.  The  fatal  truth 
struck  him  to  the  heart ;  he  fell  to  the  ground 
dead. 

I  give  this  simple  little  story  almost  in  the 
words  in  which  it  was  related  to  me  as  I  lay 
by  the  fire  in  an  evening  encampment  on  the 
banks  of  the  haunted  stream  where  it  is  said  to 
have  happened. 


Cbapter  ££W  f  f , 

A  Secret  Expedition — Deer-Bleating — Magic  Balls. 

ON  the  following  morning  we  were  rejoined 
by  the  rangers,  who  had  remained 
at  the  last  encampment,  to  seek  for  the 
stray  horses.  They  had  tracked  them  for  a 
considerable  distance  through  bush  and  brake, 
and  across  streams,  until  they  found  them  crop 
ping  the  herbage  on  the  edge  of  a  prairie. 
Their  heads  were  in  the  direction  of  the  fort, 
and  they  were  evidently  grazing  their  way 
homeward,  heedless  of  the  unbounded  freedom 
of  the  prairie  so  suddenly  laid  open  to  them. 

About  noon  the  weather  held  up,  and  I 
observed  a  mysterious  consultation  going  on 
between  our  half-breeds  and  Tonish  ;  it  ended 
in  a  request  that  we  would  dispense  with  the 
services  of  the  latter  for  a  few  hours,  and  per 
mit  him  to  join  his  comrades  in  a  grand  foray. 
We  objected  that  Tonish  was  too  much  dis 
abled  by  aches  and  pains  for  such  an  under- 
208 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  209 


taking;  but  he  was  wild  with  eagerness  for 
the  mysterious  enterprise,  and,  when  per 
mission  was  given  him,  seemed  to  forget  all 
his  ailments  in  an  instant. 

In  a  short  time  the  trio  were  equipped  and 
on  horseback,  with  rifles  on  their  shoulders 
and  handkerchiefs  twisted  round  their  heads, 
evidently  bound  for  a  grand  scamper.  As  they 
passed  by  the  different  lodges  of  the  camp,  the 
vainglorious  little  Frenchman  could  not  help 
boasting  to  the  right  and  left  of  the  great 
things  he  was  about  to  achieve  ;  though  the 
taciturn  Beatte,  who  rode  in  advance,  would 
every  now  and  then  check  his  horse,  and  look 
back  at  him  with  an  air  of  stern  rebuke.  It  was 
hard,  however,  to  make  the  loquacious  Tonish 
play  "  Indian." 

Several  of  the  hunters,  likewise,  sallied  forth, 
and  the  prime  old  woodman,  Ryan,  came  back 
early  in  the  afternoon,  with  ample  spoil,  hav 
ing  killed  a  buck  and  two  fat  does.  I  drew 
near  to  a  group  of  rangers  that  had  gathered 
round  him  as  he  stood  by  the  spoil,  and  found 
they  were  discussing  the  merits  of  a  stratagem 
sometimes  used  in  deer  hunting.  This  consists 
in  imitating,  with  a  small  instrument  called  a 
bleat,  the  cry  of  the  fawn,  so  as  to  lure  the  doe 
within  reach  of  the  rifle.  There  are  bleats  of 
various  kinds,  suited  to  calm  or  windy  weather, 

VOL.  I.  —  14 


210  Crayon 


and  to  the  age  of  the  fawn.  The  poor  animal, 
deluded  by  them,  in  its  anxiety  about  its  young, 
will  sometimes  advance  close  up  to  the  hunter. 
'  *  I  once  bleated  a  doe, ' '  said  a  young  hunter, 
4  *  until  it  came  within  twenty  yards  of  me,  and 
presented  a  sure  mark.  I  levelled  my  rifle  three 
times,  but  had  not  the  heart  to  shoot,  for  the 
poor  doe  looked  so  wistfully,  that  it  in  a  man 
ner  made  my  heart  yearn.  I  thought  of  my 
own  mother,  and  how  anxious  she  used  to  be 
about  me  when  I  was  a  child  ;  so,  to  put  an 
end  to  the  matter,  I  gave  a  halloo,  and  started 
the  doe  out  of  rifle-shot  in  a  moment." 

'  *  And  you  did  right, "  cried  honest  old  Ryan. 
' '  For  my  part,  I  never  could  bring  myself  to 
bleating  deer.  I  've  been  with  hunters  who 
had  bleats,  and  have  made  them  throw  them 
away.  It  is  a  rascally  trick  to  take  advantage 
of  a  mother's  love  for  her  young." 

Towards  evening,  our  three  worthies  returned 
from  their  mysterious  foray.  The  tongue  of 
Tonish  gave  notice  of  their  approach  long  be 
fore  they  came  in  sight ;  for  he  was  vociferating 
at  the  top  of  his  lungs,  and  rousing  the  atten 
tion  of  the  whole  camp.  The  lagging  gait  and 
reeking  flanks  of  their  horses  gave  evidence 
of  hard  riding ;  and,  on  nearer  approach,  we 
found  them  hung  round  with  meat,  like  a 
butcher's  shambles.  In  fact,  they  had  been 


Gcmr  on  tbe  prairies  211 


scouring  an  immense  prairie  that  extended  be 
yond  the  forest,  and  which  was  covered  with 
herds  of  buffalo.  Of  this  prairie,  and  the  ani 
mals  upon  it,  Beatte  had  received  intelligence 
a  few  days  before,  in  his  conversation  with  the 
Osages,  but  had  kept  the  information  a  secret 
from  the  rangers,  that  he  and  his  comrades 
might  have  the  first  dash  at  the  game.  They 
had  contented  themselves  with  killing  four  ; 
though,  if  Tonish  might  be  believed,  they 
might  have  slain  them  by  scores. 

These  tidings,  and  the  buffalo-meat  brought 
home  in  evidence,  spread  exultation  through 
the  camp,  and  every  one  looked  forward  with 
joy  to  a  buffalo-hunt  on  the  prairies.  Tonish 
was  again  the  oracle  of  the  camp,  and  held 
forth  by  the  hour  to  a  knot  of  listeners,  crouched 
round  the  fire,  with  their  shoulders  up  to  their 
ears.  He  was  now  more  boastful  than  ever  of 
his  skill  as  a  marksman.  All  his  want  of  suc 
cess  in  the  early  part  of  our  march  he  attrib 
uted  to  being  "out  of  luck,"  if  not  "spell 
bound  '  '  ;  and  finding  himself  listened  to  with 
apparent  credulity,  gave  an  instance  of  the 
kind,  which  he  declared  had  happened  to  him 
self,  but  which  was  evidently  a  tale  picked  up 
among  his  relations,  the  Osages. 

According  to  this  account,  when  about  four 
teen  years  of  age,  as  he  was  one  day  hunting,  he 


212  Crayon 


saw  a  white  deer  come  out  from  a  ravine.  Draw 
ing  near  to  get  a  shot,  he  beheld  another  and 
another  come  forth,  until  there  were  seven,  all 
as  white  as  snow.  Having  crept  sufficiently  near 
he  singled  one  out  and  fired,  but  without  effect  ; 
the  deer  remained  unfrightened.  He  loaded 
and  fired  again,  and  again  he  missed.  Thus 
he  continued  firing  and  missing  until  all  his 
ammunition  was  expended,  and  the  deer  re 
mained  without  a  wound.  He  returned  home 
desparing  of  his  skill  as  a  marksman,  but  was 
consoled  by  an  old  Osage  hunter.  These  white 
deer,  said  he,  have  a  charmed  life,  and  can 
only  be  killed  by  bullets  of  a  particular  kind. 

The  old  Indian  cast  several  balls  for  Tonish, 
but  would  not  suffer  him  to  be  present  on  the 
occasion,  nor  inform  him  of  the  ingredients  and 
mystic  ceremonials. 

Provided  with  these  balls,  Tonish  again  set 
out  in  quest  of  the  white  deer,  and  succeeded 
in  finding  them.  He  tried  at  first  with  ordi 
nary  balls,  but  missed  as  before.  A  magic 
ball,  however,  immediately  brought  a  fine  buck 
to  the  ground.  Whereupon  the  rest  of  the 
herd  immediately  disappeared,  and  were  never 
seen  again. 

Oct.  29. — The  morning  opened  gloomy  and 
lowering;  but  towards  eight  o'clock  the  sun 
struggled  forth  and  lighted  up  the  forest,  and 


B  Sour  on  tbe  Dairies  213 


the  notes  of  the  bugle  gave  signal  to  prepare 
for  marching.  Now  began  a  scene  of  bustle, 
and  clamor,  and  gayety.  Some  were  scamper 
ing  and  brawling  after  their  horses  ;  some  were 
riding  in  barebacked,  and  driving  in  the  horses 
of  their  comrades.  Some  were  stripping  the 
poles  of  the  wet  blankets  that  had  served  for 
shelters  ;  others  packing  up  with  all  possible 
dispatch,  and  loading  the  baggage  horses  as 
they  arrived,  while  others  were  cracking  off 
their  damp  rifles  and  charging  them  afresh,  to 
be  ready  for  the  sport. 

About  ten  o'clock  we  began  our  march.  I 
loitered  in  the  rear  of  the  troop  as  it  forded  the 
turbid  brook  and  defiled  through  the  labyrinths 
of  the  forest.  I  always  felt  disposed  to  linger 
until  the  last  straggler  disappeared  among  the 
trees,  and  the  distant  note  of  the  bugle  died 
upon  the  ear,  that  I  might  behold  the  wilder- 
derness  relapsing  into  silence  and  solitude.  In 
the  present  instance,  the  deserted  scene  of  our 
late  bustling  encampment  had  a  forlorn  and 
desolate  appearance.  The  surrounding  forest 
had  been  in  many  places  trampled  into  a  quag 
mire.  Trees  felled  and  partly  hewn  in  pieces,  and 
scattered  in  huge  fragments  ;  tent-poles  stripped 
of  their  covering  ;  smouldering  fires,  with  great 
morsels  of  roasted  venison  and  buffalo  meat, 
standing  in  wooden  spits  before  them,  hacked 


Crayon 


and  slashed  by  the  knives  of  hungry  hunters  ; 
while  around  were  strewed  the  hides,  the  horns, 
the  antlers  and  bones  of  buffaloes  and  deer, 
with  uncooked  joints,  and  unplucked  turkeys, 
left  behind  with  that  reckless  improvidence 
and  wastefulness  which  young  hunters  are  apt 
to  indulge  when  in  a  neighborhood  where  game 
abounds.  In  the  meantime  a  score  or  two  of 
turkey-buzzards,  or  vultures,  were  already  on 
the  wing,  wheeling  their  magnificent  flight 
high  in  the  air,  and  preparing  for  a  descent  upon 
the  camp  as  soon  as  it  should  be  abandoned. 


Cbapter 

The  Grand  Prairie— A  Buffalo  Hunt. 

AFTER  proceeding  about  two  hours   in 
a  southerly  direction,  we  emerged  tow 
ards  mid-day  from  the  dreary  belt  of 
the  Cross  Timber,  and  to  our  infinite  delight 
beheld  "  the  Great  Prairie,"  stretching  to  the 
right  and  left  before  us.     We  could  distinctly 
trace  the  meandering  course  of  the  Main  Ca 
nadian,  and  various  smaller  streams,  by  the 
strips  of  green  forests  that   bordered  them. 
The  landscape  was  vast  and  beautiful.     There 
is  always  an  expansion  of  feeling  in  looking 
upon  these  boundless  and  fertile  wastes  ;  but  I 
was  doubly  conscious  of  it  after  emerging  from 
our  "  close  dungeon  of  innumerous  boughs." 
From  a  rising  ground  Beatte  pointed  out  the 
place  where  he  and  his  comrades  had  killed  the 
buffaloes  ;  and  we  beheld  several  black  objects 
moving  in  the  distance,  which  he  said  were 
part  of  the  herd.     The  Captain  determined  to 
215 


216  dragon 


shape  his  course  to  a  woody  bottom  about  a 
mile  distant,  and  to  encamp  there  for  a  day  or 
two,  by  way  of  having  a  regular  buffalo-hunt, 
and  getting  a  supply  of  provisions.  As  the 
troop  defiled  along  the  slope  of  the  hill  tow 
ards  the  camping  ground,  Beatte  proposed  to 
my  messmates  and  myself,  that  we  should  put 
ourselves  under  his  guidance,  promising  to  take 
us  where  we  should  have  plenty  of  sport. 
Leaving  the  line  of  march,  therefore,  we  di 
verged  towards  the  prairie  ;  traversing  a  small 
valley,  and  ascending  a  gentle  swell  of  land. 
As  we  reached  the  summit,  we  beheld  a  gang 
of  wild  horses  about  a  mile  off.  Beatte  was  im 
mediately  on  the  alert,  and  no  longer  thought 
of  buffalo  hunting.  He  was  mounted  on  his 
powerful  half  wild  horse,  with  a  lariat  coiled 
at  the  saddle-bow,  and  set  off  in  pursuit ;  while 
we  remained  on  a  rising  ground  watching  his 
manoeuvres  with  great  solicitude.  Taking  ad 
vantage  of  a  strip  of  woodland,  he  stole  quietly 
along,  so  as  to  get  close  to  them  before  he  was 
perceived.  The  moment  they  caught  sight  of 
him  a  grand  scamper  took  place.  We  watched 
him  skirting  along  the  horizon  like  a  privateer 
in  full  chase  of  a  merchantman ;  at  length  he 
passed  over  the  brow  of  a  ridge,  and  down 
a  shallow  valley  ;  in  a  few  moments  he  was  on 
the  opposite  hill,  and  close  upon  one  of  the 


aour  on  tbe  prairies  217 


horses.  He  was  soon  head  and  head,  and  ap 
peared  to  be  trying  to  noose  his  prey  ;  but  they 
both  disappeared  again  behind  the  hill,  and  we 
saw  no  more  of  them.  It  turned  out  afterwards 
that  he  had  noosed  a  powerful  horse,  but 
could  not  hold  him,  and  had  lost  his  lariat  in 
the  attempt. 

While  we  were  waiting  for  his  return,  we 
perceived  two  buffalo  bulls  descending  a  slope, 
towards  a  stream,  which  wound  through  a  ra 
vine  fringed  with  trees.  The  young  Count  and 
myself  endeavored  to  get  near  them  under  cov 
ert  of  the  trees.  They  discovered  us  while  we 
were  yet  three  or  four  hundred  yards  off,  and 
turning  about,  retreated  up  the  rising  ground. 
We  urged  our  horses  across  the  ravine,  and 
gave  chase.  The  immense  weight  of  head  and 
shoulders  causes  the  buffalo  to  labor  heavily 
up-hill ;  but  it  accelerates  his  descent.  We 
had  the  advantage,  therefore,  and  gained  rap 
idly  upon  the  fugitives,  though  it  was  difficult 
to  get  our  horses  to  approach  them,  their  very 
scent  inspiring  them  with  terror.  The  Count, 
who  had  a  double-barrelled  gun  loaded  with 
ball,  fired,  but  it  missed.  The  bulls  now  altered 
their  course,  and  galloped  down  hill  with  head 
long  rapidity.  As  they  ran  in  different  direc 
tions,  we  each  singled  one  and  separated.  I 
was  provided  with  a  brace  of  veteran  brass-bar- 


2i8  dragon  jflBisceltang 


relied  pistols,  which  I  had  borrowed  at  Fort 
Gibson,  and  which  had  evidently  seen  some 
service.  Pistols  are  very  effective  in  buffalo 
hunting,  as  the  hunter  can  ride  up  close  to  the 
animal,  and  fire  it  while  at  full  speed  ;  whereas 
the  long  heavy  rifles  used  on  the  frontier,  can 
not  be  easily  managed,  nor  discharged  with 
accurate  aim  from  horseback.  My  object, 
therefore,  was  to  get  within  pistol-shot  of  the 
buffalo.  This  was  no  very  easy  matter.  I 
was  well  mounted  on  a  horse  of  excellent  speed 
and  bottom,  that  seemed  eager  for  the  chase, 
and  soon  overtook  the  game  ;  but  the  moment 
he  came  nearly  parallel,  he  would  keep  sheer 
ing  off,  with  ears  forked  and  pricked  forward, 
and  every  symptom  of  aversion  and  alarm.  It 
was  no  wonder.  Of  all  animals,  a  buffalo, 
when  close  pressed  by  the  hunter,  has  an  as 
pect  the  most  diabolical.  His  two  short  black 
horns  curve  out  of  a  huge  frontlet  of  shaggy 
hair ;  his  eyes  glow  like  coals ;  his  mouth  is 
open  ;  his  tongue  parched  and  drawn  up  into  a 
half  crescent ;  his  tail  is  erect,  and  tufted  and 
whisking  about  in  the  air  ;  he  is  a  perfect  pic 
ture  of  mingled  rage  and  terror. 

It  was  with  difficulty  I  urged  my  horse  suffi 
ciently  near,  when,  taking  aim,  to  my  chagrin 
both  pistols  missed  fire.  Unfortunately  the 
locks  of  these  veteran  weapons  were  so  much 


Gour  on  tbc  prairies  219 


worn,  that  in  the  gallop  the  priming  had  been 
shaken  out  of  the  pans.  At  the  snapping  of 
the  last  pistol  I  was  close  upon  the  buffalo, 
when,  in  his  despair,  he  turned  round  with  a 
sudden  snort,  and  rushed  upon  me.  My  horse 
wheeled  about  as  if  on  a  pivot,  made  a  convul 
sive  spring,  and,  as  I  had  been  leaning  on  one 
side  with  pistol  extended,  I  came  near  being 
thrown  at  the  feet  of  the  buffalo. 

Three  or  four  bounds  of  the  horse  carried  us 
out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemy,  who,  having 
merely  turned  in  desperate  self-defence,  quickly 
resumed  his  flight.  As  soon  as  I  could  gather 
in  my  panic-stricken  horse,  and  prime  the  pis 
tols  afresh,  I  again  spurred  in  pursuit  of  the 
buffalo,  who  had  slackened  his  speed  to  take 
breath.  On  my  approach  he  again  set  off  full 
tilt,  heaving  himself  forward  with  a  heavy 
rolling  gallop,  dashing  with  headlong  precipi 
tation  through  brakes  and  ravines,  while  sev 
eral  deer  and  wolves,  startled  from  their 
coverts  by  his  thundering  career,  ran  helter- 
skelter  to  right  and  left  across  the  waste. 

A  gallop  across  the  prairies  in  pursuit  of 
game  is  by  no  means  so  smooth  a  career  as 
those  may  imagine  who  have  only  the  idea  of 
an  open  level  plain.  It  is  true,  the  prairies  of 
the  hunting  ground  are  not  so  much  entangled 
with  flowering  plants  and  long  herbage  as  the 


220  dragon  /Bbtecellang 


lower  prairies,  and  are  principally  covered  with 
short  buffalo-grass  ;  but  they  are  diversified  by 
hill  and  dale,  and  where  most  level,  are  apt  to 
be  cut  up  by  deep  rifts  and  ravines,  made  by 
torrents  after  rains  ;  and  which,  yawning  from 
an  even  surface,  are  almost  like  pitfalls  in  the 
way  of  the  hunter,  checking  him  suddenly 
when  in  full  career,  or  subjecting  him  to  the 
risk  of  limb  and  life.  The  plains,  too,  are  be 
set  by  burrowing-holes  of  small  animals,  in 
which  the  horse  is  apt  to  sink  to  the  fetlock, 
and  throw  both  himself  and  his  rider.  The 
late  rain  had  covered  some  parts  of  the  prairie, 
where  the  ground  was  hard,  with  a  thin  sheet 
of  water,  through  which  the  horse  had  to 
splash  his  way.  In  other  parts  there  were 
innumerable  shallow  hollows,  eight  or  ten 
feet  in  diameter,  made  by  the  buffaloes,  who 
wallow  in  sand  and  mud  like  swine.  These 
being  filled  with  water,  shone  like  mirrors,  so 
that  the  horse  was  continually  leaping  over 
them  or  springing  on  one  side.  We  had 
reached,  too,  a  rough  part  of  the  prairie,  very 
much  broken  and  cut  up  ;  the  buffalo,  who 
was  running  for  life,  took  no  heed  to  his 
course,  plunging  down  break-neck  ravines, 
where  it  was  necessary  to  skirt  the  borders  in 
search  of  a  safer  descent.  At  length  we  came 
to  where  a  winter  stream  had  torn  a  deep 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  221 


chasm  across  the  whole  prairie,  leaving  open 
jagged  rocks,  and  forming  a  long  glen  bor 
dered  by  steep  crumbling  cliffs  of  mingled 
stone  and  clay.  Down  one  of  these  the  buffalo 
flung  himself,  half  tumbling,  half  leaping,  and 
then  scuttled  along  the  bottom ;  while  I,  see 
ing  all  further  pursuit  useless,  pulled  up,  and 
gazed  quietly  after  him  from  the  border  of  the 
cliff,  until  he  disappeared  amidst  the  windings 
of  the  ravine. 

Nothing  now  remained  but  to  turn  my  steed 
and  rejoin  my  companions.  Here  at  first  was 
some  little  difficulty.  The  ardor  of  the  chase 
had  betrayed  me  into  a  long,  heedless  gallop. 
I  now  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  lonely 
waste,  in  which  the  prospect  was  bounded  by 
undulating  swells  of  land,  naked  and  uniform, 
where,  from  the  deficiency  of  landmarks  and 
distinct  features,  an  inexperienced  man  may 
become  bewildered,  and  lose  his  way  as  readily 
as  in  the  wastes  of  the  ocean.  The  day,  too, 
was  overcast,  so  that  I  could  not  guide  myself 
by  the  sun  ;  my  only  mode  was  to  retrace  the 
track  my  horse  had  made  in  coming,  though 
this  I  would  often  lose  sight  of,  where  the 
ground  was  covered  with  parched  herbage. 

To  one  unaccustomed  to  it,  there  is  some 
thing  inexpressibly  lonely  in  the  solitude  of  a 
prairie.  The  loneliness  of  a  forest  seems  noth- 


222  Crayon 


ing  to  it.  There  the  view  is  shut  in  by  trees, 
and  the  imagination  is  left  free  to  picture  some 
livelier  scene  beyond.  But  here  we  have  an 
immense  extent  of  landscape  without  a  sign 
of  human  existence.  We  have  the  conscious 
ness  of  being  far,  far  beyond  the  bounds  of 
human  habitation  ;  we  feel  as  if  moving  in  the 
midst  of  a  desert  world.  As  my  horse  lagged 
slowly  back  over  the  scenes  of  our  late  scam 
per,  and  the  delirium  of  the  chase  had  passed 
away,  I  was  peculiarly  sensible  to  these  cir 
cumstances.  The  silence  of  the  waste  was 
now  and  then  broken  by  the  cry  of  a  distant 
flock  of  pelicans,  stalking  like  spectres  about  a 
shallow  pool ;  sometimes  by  the  sinister  croak 
ing  of  a  raven  in  the  air,  while  occasionally  a 
scoundrel  wolf  would  scour  off  from  before  me, 
and,  having  attained  a  safe  distance,  would  sit 
down  and  howl  and  whine  with  tones  that 
gave  a  dreariness  to  the  surrounding  solitude. 

After  pursuing  my  way  for  some  time,  I 
descried  a  horseman  on  the  edge  of  a  distant 
hill,  and  soon  recognized  him  to  be  the  Count. 
He  had  been  equally  unsuccessful  with  my 
self;  we  were  shortly  after  rejoined  by  our 
worthy  comrade,  the  Virtuoso,  who,  with 
spectacles  on  nose,  had  made  two  or  three  in 
effectual  shots  from  horseback. 

We  determined  not  to  seek  the  camp  until 


Eour  on  tbe  prairies  223 


we  had  made  one  more  effort.  Casting  our 
eyes  about  the  surrounding  waste,  we  descried 
a  herd  of  buffalo  about  two  miles  distant,  scat 
tered  apart,  and  quietly  grazing  near  a  small 
strip  of  trees  and  bushes.  It  required  but  little 
stretch  of  fancy  to  picture  them  so  many  cattle 
grazing  on  the  edge  of  a  common,  and  that  the 
grove  might  shelter  some  lonely  farm-house. 

We  now  formed  our  plan  to  circumvent  the 
herd,  and  by  getting  on  the  other  side  of  them, 
to  hunt  them  in  the  direction  where  we  knew 
our  camp  to  be  situated  :  otherwise,  the  pur 
suit  might  take  us  to  such  a  distance  as  to  ren 
der  it  impossible  to  find  our  way  back  before 
nightfall.  Taking  a  wide  circuit,  therefore,  we 
moved  slowly  and  cautiously,  pausing  occa 
sionally  when  we  saw  any  of  the  herd  desist 
from  grazing.  The  wind  fortunately  set  from 
them,  otherwise  they  might  have  scented  us 
and  have  taken  the  alarm.  In  this  way  we 
succeeded  in  getting  round  the  herd  without 
disturbing  it.  It  consisted  of  about  forty  head  ; 
bulls,  cows,  and  calves.  Separating  to  some 
distance  from  each  other,  we  now  approached 
slowly  in  a  parallel  line,  hoping  by  degrees  to 
steal  near  without  exciting  attention.  They 
began,  however,  to  move  off  quietly,  stopping 
at  every  step  or  two  to  graze,  when  suddenly 
a  bull,  that,  unobserved  by  us,  had  been  taking 


224  Crayon 


his  siesta  under  a  clump  of  trees  to  our  left, 
roused  himself  from  his  lair,  and  hastened  to 
join  his  companions.  We  were  still  at  a  con 
siderable  distance,  but  the  game  had  taken  the 
alarm.  We  quickened  our  pace  ;  they  broke 
into  a  gallop,  and  now  commenced  a  full  chase. 

As  the  ground  was  level,  they  shouldered 
along  with  great  speed,  following  each  other 
in  a  line  ;  two  or  three  bulls  bringing  up  the 
rear,  the  last  of  whom,  from  his  enormous  size 
and  venerable  frontlet,  and  beard  of  sunburnt 
hair,  looked  like  the  patriarch  of  the  herd,  and 
as  if  he  might  long  have  reigned  the  monarch 
of  the  prairie. 

There  is  a  mixture  of  the  awful  and  the  comic 
in  the  look  of  these  huge  animals,  as  they  bear 
their  great  bulk  forwards,  with  an  up  and 
down  motion  of  the  unwieldy  head  and  shoul 
ders,  their  tail  cocked  up  like  the  cue  of  a 
Pantaloon  in  a  pantomime,  the  end  whisking 
about  in  a  fierce  yet  whimsical  style,  and  their 
eyes  glaring  venomously  with  an  expression 
of  fright  and  fury. 

For  some  time  I  kept  parallel  with  the  line, 
without  being  able  to  force  my  horse  within 
pistol-shot,  so  much  had  he  been  alarmed  by 
the  assault  of  the  buffalo  in  the  preceding  chase. 
At  length  I  succeeded,  but  was  again  balked 
by  my  pistols  missing  fire.  My  companions, 


21  £our  on  tbe  prairies  225 

whose  horses  were  less  fleet  and  more  wayworn, 
could  not  overtake  the  herd  ;  at  length  Mr.  I,., 
who  was  in  the  rear  of  the  line,  and  losing 
ground,  levelled  his  double-barrelled  gun,  and 
fired  a  long  raking  shot.  It  struck  a  buffalo 
just  above  the  loins,  broke  its  backbone,  and 
brought  it  to  the  ground.  He  stopped  and 
alighted  to  dispatch  his  prey,  when,  borrowing 
his  gun,  which  had  yet  a  charge  remaining  in 
it,  I  put  my  horse  to  his  speed,  again  overtook 
the  herd  which  was  thundering  along,  pursued 
by  the  Count.  With  my  present  weapon  there 
was  no  need  of  urging  my  horse  to  such  close 
quarters ;  galloping  along  parallel,  therefore, 
I  singled  out  a  buffalo,  and  by  a  fortunate  shot 
brought  it  down  on  the  spot.  The  ball  had 
struck  a  vital  part ;  it  could  not  move  from  the 
place  where  it  fell,  but  lay  there  struggling  in 
mortal  agony,  while  the  rest  of  the  herd 
kept  on  their  headlong  career  across  the  prairie. 
Dismounting,  I  now  fettered  my  horse  to 
prevent  his  straying,  and  advanced  to  contem 
plate  my  victim.  I  am  nothing  of  a  sportsman  ; 
I  had  been  prompted  to  this  unwonted  exploit 
by  the  magnitude  of  the  game  and  the  excite 
ment  of  an  adventurous  chase.  Now  that  the 
excitement  was  over,  I  could  not  but  look  with 
commiseration  upon  the  poor  animal  that  lay 
struggling  and  bleeding  at  my  feet.  His  very 

VOL.  I.— 15 


226  dragon 


size  and  importance,  which  had  before  inspired 
me  with  eagerness,  now  increased  my  com 
punction.  It  seemed  as  if  I  had  inflicted  pain 
in  proportion  to  the  bulk  of  my  victim,  and  as 
if  there  were  a  hundred-fold  greater  waste  of 
life  than  there  would  have  been  in  the  destruc 
tion  of  an  animal  of  inferior  size. 

To  add  to  these  after-qualms  of  conscience, 
the  poor  animal  lingered  in  his  agony.  He 
had  evidently  received  a  mortal  wound,  but 
death  might  be  long  in  coming.  It  would  not 
do  to  leave  him  here  to  be  torn  piecemeal, 
while  yet  alive,  by  the  wolves  that  had  already 
snuffed  his  blood,  and  were  skulking  and  howl 
ing  at  a  distance,  and  waiting  for  my  departure  ; 
and  by  the  ravens  that  were  napping  about, 
croaking  dismally  in  the  air.  It  became  now 
an  act  of  mercy  to  give  him  his  quietus,  and 
put  him  out  of  his  misery.  I  primed  one  of 
the  pistols,  therefore,  and  advanced  close  up  to 
the  buffalo.  To  inflict  a  wound  thus  in  cold 
blood,  I  found  a  totally  different  thing  from 
firing  in  the  heat  of  the  chase.  Taking  aim, 
however,  just  behind  the  fore-shoulder,  my 
pistol  for  once  proved  true ;  the  ball  must 
have  passed  through  the  heart,  for  the  animal 
gave  one  convulsive  throe  and  expired. 

While  I  stood  meditating  and  moralizing 
over  the  wreck  I  had  so  wantonly  produced, 


3our  on  tbe  prairies 


227 


with  my  horse  grazing  near  me,  I  was  rejoined 
by  my  fellow-sportsman  the  Virtuoso,  who, 
being  a  man  of  universal  adroitness,  and  withal 
more  experienced  and  hardened  in  the  gentle 
art  of  "venerie,"  soon  managed  to  carve  out 
the  tongue  of  the  buffalo,  and  delivered  it  to 
me  to  bear  back  to  the  camp  as  a  trophy. 


Cbapter 


A  Comrade  Lost—  A  Search  for  the  Camp—  The  Com 

missioner,   the  Wild  Horse,  and  the 

Buffalo—  A  Wolf  Serenade. 

OUR  solicitude  was  now  awakened  for  the 
young  Count.  With  his  usual  eager 
ness  and  impetuosity  he  had  persisted 
in  urging  his  jaded  horse  in  pursuit  of  the 
herd,  unwilling  to  return  without  having  like 
wise  killed  a  buffalo.  In  this  way  he  had  kept 
on  following  them,  hither  and  thither,  and  oc 
casionally  firing  an  ineffectual  shot,  until  by 
degrees  horseman  and  herd  became  indistinct 
in  the  distance,  and  at  length  swelling  ground 
and  strips  of  trees  and  thickets  hid  them  en 
tirely  from  sight. 

By  the  time  my  friend  the  amateur  joined 
me,  the  young  Count  had  been  long  lost  to 
view.  We  held  a  consultation  on  the  matter. 
Evening  was  drawing  on.  Were  we  to  pursue 
him,  it  would  be  dark  before  we  should  over- 
228 


Cour  on  tbe  prairies  229 


take  him,  granting  we  did  not  entirely  lose 
trace  of  him  in  the  gloom.  We  should  then 
be  too  much  bewildered  to  find  our  way  back 
to  the  encampment  ;  even  now,  our  return 
would  be  difficult.  We  determined,  therefore, 
to  hasten  to  the  camp  as  speedily  as  possible, 
and  send  out  our  half-breeds,  and  some  of  the 
veteran  hunters  skilled  in  cruising  about  the 
prairies,  to  search  for  our  companion. 

We  accordingly  set  forward  in  what  we  sup 
posed  to  be  the  direction  of  the  camp.  Our 
weary  horses  could  hardly  be  urged  beyond  a 
walk.  The  twilight  thickened  upon  us  ;  the 
landscape  grew  gradually  indistinct  ;  we  tried 
in  vain  to  recognize  various  landmarks  which 
we  had  noted  in  the  morning.  The  features 
of  the  prairies  are  so  similar  as  to  baffle  the 
eye  of  any  but  an  Indian,  or  a  practised  wood 
man.  At  length  night  closed  in.  We  hoped 
to  see  the  distant  glare  of  camp  fires  ;  we  lis 
tened  to  catch  the  sound  of  the  bells  about  the 
necks  of  the  grazing  horses.  Once  or  twice 
we  thought  we  distinguished  them  ;  we  were 
mistaken.  Nothing  was  to  be  heard  but  a 
monotonous  concert  of  insects,  with  now  and 
then  the  dismal  howl  of  wolves  mingling  with 
the  night  breeze.  We  began  to  think  of  halt 
ing  for  the  night,  and  bivouacking  under  the 
lee  of  some  thicket.  We  had  implements  to 


230  dragon 


strike  a  light ;  there  was  plenty  of  firewood  at 
hand,  and  the  tongues  of  our  buffaloes  would 
furnish  us  with  a  repast. 

Just  as  we  were  preparing  to  dismount,  we 
heard  the  report  of  a  rifle,  and,  shortly  after, 
the  notes  of  the  bugle,  calling  up  the  night- 
guard.  Pushing  forward  in  that  direction,  the 
camp  fires  soon  broke  on  our  sight,  gleaming 
at  a  distance  from  among  the  thick  groves  of 
an  alluvial  bottom. 

As  we  entered  the  camp,  we  found  it  a  scene 
of  rude  hunters'  revelry  and  wassail.  There 
had  been  a  grand  day's  sport,  in  which  all 
had  taken  a  part.  Bight  buffaloes  had  been 
killed ;  roaring  fires  were  blazing  on  every 
side;  all  hands  were  feasting  upon  roasted 
joints,  broiled  marrow-bones,  and  the  juicy 
hump,  far-famed  among  the  epicures  of  the 
prairies.  Right  glad  were  we  to  dismount 
and  partake  of  the  sturdy  cheer,  for  we  had 
been  on  our  weary  horses  since  morning,  with 
out  tasting  food. 

As  to  our  worthy  friend  the  Commissioner, 
with  whom  we  had  parted  company  at  the  out 
set  of  this  eventful  day  we  found  him  lying  in 
a  corner  of  the  tent,  much  the  worse  for  wear, 
in  the  course  of  a  successful  hunting  match. 

It  seems  that  our  man  Beatte,  in  his  zeal  to 
give  the  Commissioner  an  opportunity  of  dis- 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  231 


tinguishing  himself,  and  gratifying  his  hunt 
ing  propensities,  had  mounted  him  upon  his 
half-wild  horse,  and  started  him  in  pursuit  of 
a  huge  buffalo  bull  that  had  already  been 
frightened  by  the  hunters.  The  horse,  which 
was  fearless  as  his  owner,  and,  like  him,  had 
a  considerable  spice  of  devil  in  his  composi 
tion,  and  who,  beside,  had  been  made  familiar 
with  the  game,  no  sooner  came  in  sight  and 
scent  of  the  buffalo  than  he  set  off  full  speed, 
bearing  the  involuntary  hunter  hither  and 
thither,  and  whither  he  would  not  —  up-hill 
and  down-hill  —  leaping  pools  and  brooks  — 
dashing  through  glens  and  gullies,  until  he 
came  up  with  the  game.  Instead  of  sheering 
off,  he  crowded  upon  the  buffalo.  The  Com 
missioner,  almost  in  self-defence,  discharged 
both  barrels  of  a  double-barrelled  gun  into  the 
enemy.  The  broadside  took  effect,  but  was 
not  mortal.  The  buffalo  turned  furiously  upon 
his  pursuer  ;  the  horse,  as  he  had  been  taught 
by  his  owner,  wheeled  off.  The  buffalo 
plunged  after  him.  The  worthy  Commis 
sioner,  in  great  extremity,  drew  his  sole  pistol 
from  his  holster,  fired  it  off  as  a  stern-chaser, 
shot  the  buffalo  full  in  the  breast,  and  brought 
him  lumbering  forward  to  the  earth. 

The  Commissioner  returned  to  camp,  lauded 
on  all  sides  for  his  signal  exploit,  but  griev- 


232  Crayon 


ously  battered  and  wayworn.  He  had  been  a 
hard  rider  per  force,  and  a  victor  in  spite  of 
himself.  He  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  compli 
ments  and  congratulations,  had  but  little 
stomach  for  the  hunter's  fare  placed  before 
him,  and  soon  retreated  to  stretch  his  limbs 
in  the  tent,  declaring  that  nothing  should 
tempt  him  again  to  mount  that  half-devil  In 
dian  horse,  and  that  he  had  enough  of  buffalo 
hunting  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

It  was  too  dark  now  to  send  any  one  in 
search  of  the  young  Count.  Guns,  however, 
were  fired,  and  the  bugle  sounded  from  time 
to  time,  to  guide  him  to  the  camp,  if  by  chance 
he  should  straggle  within  hearing;  but  the 
night  advanced  without  his  making  his  ap 
pearance.  There  was  not  a  star  visible  to 
guide  him,  and  we  concluded  that,  wherever 
he  was,  he  would  give  up  wandering  in  the 
dark,  and  bivouac  until  daybreak. 

It  was  a  raw,  overcast  night.  The  carcasses 
of  the  buffaloes  killed  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
camp  had  drawn  about  it  an  unusual  number  of 
wolves,  who  kept  up  the  most  forlorn  concert 
of  whining  yells,  prolonged  into  dismal  ca 
dences  and  inflections,  literally  converting  the 
surrounding  waste  into  a  howling  wilderness. 
Nothing  is  more  melancholy  than  the  midnight 
howl  of  a  wolf  on  a  prairie.  What  rendered 


Gour  on  tbc  prairies  233 


the  gloom  and  wildness  of  the  night  and  the 
savage  concert  of  the  neighboring  waste  the 
more  dreary  to  us,  was  the  idea  of  the  lonely 
and  exposed  situation  of  our  young  and  inex 
perienced  comrade.  We  trusted,  however, 
that  on  the  return  of  daylight  he  would  find 
his  way  back  to  the  camp,  and  then  all  the 
events  of  the  night  would  be  remembered  only 
as  so  many  savory  gratifications  of  his  passion 
for  adventure. 


Cbapter 

A  Hunt  for  a  I^ost  Comrade. 

THE  morning  dawned,  and  an  hour  or 
two  passed  without  any  tidings  of  the 
Count.  We  began  to  feel  uneasiness, 
lest,  having  no  compass  to  aid  him,  he  might 
perplex  himself  and  wander  in  some  opposite 
direction.  Stragglers  are  thus  often  lost  for 
days.  What  made  us  the  more  anxious  about 
him  was,  that  he  had  no  provisions  with  him, 
was  totally  unversed  in  "  wood-craft,"  and 
liable  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  lurking  or 
straggling  party  of  savages. 

As  soon  as  our  people,  therefore,  had  made 
their  breakfast,  we  beat  up  for  volunteers  for  a 
cruise  in  search  of  the  Count.  A  dozen  of  the 
rangers,  mounted  on  some  of  the  best  and 
freshest  horses,  and  armed  with  rifles,  were 
soon  ready  to  start ;  our  half-breeds  Beatte 
and  Antoine  also,  with  our  little  mongrel 
Frenchman,  were  zealous  in  the  cause  ;  so  Mr. 
234 


tTour  on  tbe  prairfea  235 


If.  and  myself  taking  the  lead,  to  show  the 
way  to  the  scene  of  our  little  hunt,  where  we 
had  parted  company  with  the  Count,  we  all 
set  out  across  the  prairie.  A  ride  of  a  couple 
of  miles  brought  us  to  the  carcasses  of  the  two 
buffaloes  we  had  killed.  A  legion  of  ravenous 
wolves  were  already  gorging  upon  them.  At 
our  approach  they  reluctantly  drew  off,  skulk 
ing  with  a  caitiff  look  to  the  distance  of  a  few 
hundred  yards,  and  there  awaiting  our  depart 
ure,  that  they  might  return  to  their  banquet. 

I  conducted  Beatte  and  Antoine  to  the  spot 
whence  the  young  Count  had  continued  the 
chase  alone.  It  was  like  putting  hounds  upon 
the  scent.  They  immediately  distinguished 
the  track  of  his  horse  amidst  the  trampings  of 
the  buffaloes,  and  set  off  at  a  round  pace,  fol 
lowing  with  the  eye  in  nearly  a  straight  course, 
for  upwards  of  a  mile,  when  they  came  to 
where  the  herd  had  divided  and  run  hither  and 
thither  about  a  meadow.  Here  the  track  of 
the  horse's  hoofs  wandered  and  doubled  and 
often  crossed  each  other  ;  our  half-breeds  were 
like  hounds  at  fault.  While  we  were  at  a  halt, 
waiting  until  they  should  unravel  the  maze, 
Beatte  suddenly  gave  a  short  Indian  whoop,  or 
rather  yelp,  and  pointed  to  a  distant  hill.  On 
regarding  it  attentively,  we  perceived  a  horse 
man  on  the  summit.  *  '  It  is  the  Count  !  *  '  cried 


236  Crayon 


Beatte,  and  set  off  at  full  gallop,  followed  by 
the  whole  company.  In  a  few  moments  he 
checked  his  horse.  Another  figure  on  horse 
back  had  appeared  on  the  brow  of  the  hill. 
This  completely  altered  the  case.  The  Count 
had  wandered  off  alone  ;  no  other  person  had 
been  missing  from  the  camp.  If  one  of  these 
horsemen  were  indeed  the  Count,  the  other 
must  be  an  Indian  ;  if  an  Indian,  in  all  proba 
bility  a  Pawnee.  Perhaps  they  were  both  In 
dians  ;  scouts  of  some  party  lurking  in  the 
vicinity.  While  these  and  other  suggestions 
were  hastily  discussed,  the  two  horsemen 
glided  down  from  the  profile  of  the  hill,  and 
we  lost  sight  of  them.  One  of  the  rangers 
suggested  that  there  might  be  a  straggling 
party  of  Pawnees  behind  the  hill,  and  that  the 
Count  might  have  fallen  into  their  hands. 
The  idea  had  an  electric  effect  upon  the  little 
troop.  In  an  instant  every  horse  was  at  full 
speed,  the  half-breeds  leading  the  way ;  the 
young  rangers  as  they  rode  set  up  wild  yelps 
of  exultation  at  the  thought  of  having  a  brush 
with  the  Indians.  A  neck-or-nothing  gallop 
brought  us  to  the  skirts  of  the  hill,  and  re 
vealed  our  mistake.  In  a  ravine  we  found  the 
two  horsemen  standing  by  the  carcass  of  a 
buffalo  which  they  had  killed.  They  proved 
to  be  two  rangers,  who,  unperceived,  had  left 


tfour  on  tbe  prairies  237 


the  camp  a  little  before  us,  and  had  come  here 
in  a  direct  line,  while  we  had  made  a  wide 
circuit  about  the  prairie. 

This  episode  being  at  an  end,  and  the  sudden 
excitement  being  over,  we  slowly  and  coolly 
retraced  our  steps  to  the  meadow,  but  it  was 
some  time  before  our  half-breeds  could  again 
get  on  the  track  of  the  Count.  Having  at 
length  found  it,  they  succeeded  in  following  it 
through  all  its  doublings,  until  they  came  to 
where  it  was  no  longer  mingled  with  the 
tramp  of  buffaloes,  but  became  single  and 
separate,  wandering  here  and  there  about  the 
prairies,  but  always  tending  in  a  direction  op 
posite  to  that  of  the  camp.  Here  the  Count 
had  evidently  given  up  the  pursuit  of  the  herd, 
and  had  endeavored  to  find  his  way  to  the  en 
campment,  but  had  become  bewildered  as  the 
evening  shades  thickened  around  him,  and  had 
completely  mistaken  the  points  of  the  compass. 

In  all  this  quest  our  half-breeds  displayed 
that  quickness  of  eye,  in  following  up  a  track, 
for  which  Indians  are  so  noted.  Beatte,  es 
pecially,  was  as  stanch  as  a  veteran  hound. 
Sometimes  he  would  keep  forward  on  an  easy 
trot,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground  a  little  ahead 
of  his  horse,  clearly  distinguishing  prints  in 
the  herbage  which  to  me  were  invisible,  ex 
cepting  on  the  closest  inspection.  Sometimes 


238  Gragon 


he  would  pull  up  and  walk  his  horse  slowly, 
regarding  the  ground  intensely,  where  to  my 
eye  nothing  was  apparent.  Then  he  would 
dismount,  lead  his  horse  by  the  bridle,  and 
advance  cautiously  step  by  step,  with  his  face 
bent  towards  the  earth,  just  catching,  here 
and  there,  a  casual  indication  of  the  vaguest 
kind  to  guide  him  onward.  In  some  places 
where  the  soil  was  hard,  and  the  grass  withered, 
he  would  lose  the  track  entirely  and  wander 
backwards  and  forwards,  and  right  and  left, 
in  search  of  it ;  returning  occasionally  to  the 
place  where  he  had  lost  sight  of  it,  to  take  a 
new  departure.  If  this  failed,  he  would  ex 
amine  the  banks  of  the  neighboring  streams, 
or  the  sandy  bottoms  of  the  ravines,  in  hopes 
of  finding  tracks  where  the  Count  had  crossed. 
When  he  again  came  upon  the  track,  he  would 
remount  his  horse,  and  resume  his  onward 
course.  At  length,  after  crossing  a  stream,  in 
the  crumbling  banks  of  which  the  hoofs  of  the 
horse  were  deeply  dented,  we  came  upon  a 
high  dry  prairie,  where  our  half-breeds  were 
completely  baffled.  Not  a  footprint  was  to  be 
discerned,  though  they  searched  in  every  di 
rection  ;  and  Beatte  at  length  coming  to  a 
pause,  shook  his  head  despondingly. 

Just  then  a  small  herd  of  deer,  roused  from 
a  neighboring  ravine,  came  bounding  by  us. 


Eour  on  tbe  prairies  239 


Beatte  sprang  from  his  horse,  levelled  his  rifle, 
and  wounded  one  slightly,  but  without  bring 
ing  it  to  the  ground.  The  report  of  the  rifle 
was  almost  immediately  followed  by  a  long 
halloo  from  a  distance.  We  looked  around, 
but  could  see  nothing.  Another  long  halloo 
was  heard,  and  at  length  a  horseman  was 
descried,  emerging  out  of  a  skirt  of  forest.  A 
single  glance  showed  him  to  be  the  young 
Count  ;  there  was  a  universal  shout  and  scamper, 
every  one  setting  off  full  gallop  to  greet  him. 
It  was  a  joyful  meeting  to  both  parties,  for 
much  anxiety  had  been  felt  by  us  all  on  account 
of  his  youth  and  inexperience,  and  for  his 
part,  with  all  his  love  of  adventure,  he  seemed 
right  glad  to  be  once  more  among  his  friends. 

As  we  supposed,  he  had  completely  mistaken 
his  course  on  the  preceding  evening,  and  had 
wandered  about  until  dark,  when  he  thought 
of  bivouacking.  The  night  was  cold,  yet  he 
feared  to  make  a  fire,  lest  it  might  betray  him 
to  some  lurking  party  of  Indians.  Hobbling 
his  horse  with  his  pocket-handkerchief,  and 
leaving  him  to  graze  on  the  margin  of  the 
prairie,  he  clambered  into  a  tree,  fixed  his  sad 
dle  in  the  fork  of  the  branches,  and  placing 
himself  securely  with  his  back  against  the 
trunk,  prepared  to  pass  a  dreary  and  anxious 
night,  regaled  occasionally  with  the  howlings 


240  Crayon 


of  the  wolves.  He  was  agreeably  disappointed. 
The  fatigue  of  the  day  soon  brought  on  a 
sound  sleep ;  he  had  delightful  dreams  about 
his  home  in  Switzerland ;  nor  did  he  wake 
until  it  was  broad  daylight. 

He  then  descended  from  his  roosting-place, 
mounted  his  horse,  and  rode  to  the  naked 
summit  of  a  hill,  whence  he  beheld  a  trackless 
wilderness  around  him,  but,  at  no  great  dis 
tance,  the  Grand  Canadian,  winding  its  way 
between  borders  of  forest  land.  The  sight  of 
this  river  consoled  him  with  the  idea  that, 
should  he  fail  in  finding  his  way  back  to  the 
camp,  or  in  being  found  by  some  party  of  hiscom- 
rades,  he  might  follow  the  course  of  the  stream, 
which  could  not  fail  to  conduct  him  to  some 
frontier  post,  or  Indian  hamlet.  So  closed  the 
events  of  our  hap-hazard  buffalo  hunt. 


Cbapter 

A  Republic  of  Prairie-Dogs. 

ON  returning  from  our  expedition  in  quest 
of  the  young  Count,  I  learned  that  a, 
burrow,  or  village,  as  it  is  termed,  of 
prairie-dogs  had  been  discovered  on  the  level 
summit  of  a  hill,  about  a  mile  from  the  camp. 
Having  heard  much  of  the  habits  and  peculiar 
ities  of  these  little  animals,  I  determined  to 
pay  a  visit  to  the  community.  The  prairie- 
dog  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  curiosities  of  the  Far 
West,  about  which  travellers  delight  to  tell 
marvellous  tales,  endowing  him  at  times  with 
something  of  the  politic  and  social  habits  of  a 
rational  being,  and  giving  him  systems  of  civil 
government  and  domestic  economy  almost 
equal  to  what  they  used  to  bestow  upon  the 
beaver. 

The  prairie-dog  is  an  animal  of  the  coney 
kind,  and  about  the  size  of  a  rabbit.     He  is  of 

VOL.    I.— 16 

241 


242  Crayon 


a  sprightly,  mercurial  nature  ;  quick,  sensitive, 
and  somewhat  petulant.  He  is  very  grega 
rious,  living  in  large  communities,  sometimes 
of  several  acres  in  extent,  where  innumerable 
little  heaps  of  earth  show  the  entrances  to  the 
subterranean  cells  of  the  inhabitants,  and  the 
well-beaten  tracks,  like  lanes  and  streets,  show 
their  mobility  and  restlessness.  According  to 
the  accounts  given  of  them,  they  would  seem  to 
be  continually  full  of  sport,  business,  and  pub 
lic  affairs  ;  whisking  about  hither  and  thither, 
as  if  on  gossiping  visits  to  each  other's  houses, 
or  congregating  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  or 
after  a  shower,  and  gamboling  together  in  the 
open  air.  Sometimes,  especially  when  the 
moon  shines,  they  pass  half  the  night  in  rev 
elry,  barking  or  yelping  with  short,  quick,  yet 
weak  tones,  like  those  of  very  young  puppies. 
While  in  the  height  of  their  playfulness  and 
clamor,  however,  should  there  be  the  least 
alarm,  they  all  vanish  into  their  cells  in  an 
instant,  and  the  village  remains  blank  and 
silent.  In  case  they  are  hard  pressed  by  their 
pursuers,  without  any  hope  of  escape,  they 
will  assume  a  pugnacious  air,  and  a  most 
whimsical  look  of  impotent  wrath  and  defiance. 
The  prairie-dogs  are  not  permitted  to  remain 
sole  and  undisturbed  inhabitants  of  their  own 
homes.  Owls  and  rattlesnakes  are  said  to 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  243 


take  up  their  abodes  with  them  ;  but  whether 
as  invited  guests  or  unwelcome  intruders,  is  a 
matter  of  controversy.  The  owls  are  of  a  pecu 
liar  kind,  and  would  seem  to  partake  of  the 
character  of  the  hawk  ;  for  they  are  taller  and 
more  erect  on  their  legs,  more  alert  in  their 
looks  and  rapid  in  their  flight  than  ordinary 
owls,  and  do  not  confine  their  excursions  to 
the  night,  but  sally  forth  in  broad  day. 

Some  say  that  they  only  inhabit  cells  which 
the  prairie-dogs  have  deserted,  and  suffered  to 
go  to  ruin,  in  consequence  of  the  death  in  them 
of  some  relative  ;  for  they  would  make  out  this 
little  animal  to  be  endowed  with  keen  sensibil 
ities,  that  will  not  permit  it  to  remain  in  the 
dwelling  where  it  has  witnessed  the  death  of  a 
friend.  Other  fanciful  speculators  represent 
the  owl  as  a  kind  of  housekeeper  to  the  prairie- 
dog  ;  and,  from  having  a  note  very  similar, 
insinuate  that  it  acts,  in  a  manner,  as  family 
preceptor,  and  teaches  the  young  litter  to  bark. 

As  to  the  rattlesnake,  nothing  satisfactory 
has  been  ascertained  of  the  part  he  plays  in 
this  most  interesting  household,  though  he  is 
considered  as  little  better  than  a  sycophant 
and  sharper,  that  winds  himself  into  the  con 
cerns  of  the  honest,  credulous  little  dog,  and 
takes  him  in  most  sadly.  Certain  it  is,  if  he 
acts  as  toad-eater,  he  occasionally  solaces  him- 


244  Crayon 


self  with  more  than  the  usual  perquisites  of  his 
order,  as  he  is  now  and  then  detected  with  one 
of  the  younger  members  of  the  family  in  his 
maw. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  particulars  that  I  could 
gather  about  the  domestic  economy  of  this  lit 
tle  inhabitant  of  the  prairies,  who,  with  his 
pigmy  republic,  appears  to  be  a  subject  of  much 
whimsical  speculation  and  burlesque  remarks, 
among  the  hunters  of  the  Far  West. 

It  was  towards  evening  that  I  set  out  with  a 
companion,  to  visit  the  village  in  question. 
Unluckily,  it  had  been  invaded  in  the  course 
of  the  day  by  some  of  the  rangers,  who  had 
shot  two  or  three  of  its  inhabitants,  and  thrown 
the  whole  sensitive  community  in  confusion. 
As  we  approached,  we  could  perceive  numbers 
of  the  inhabitants  seated  at  the  entrances  of 
their  cells,  while  sentinels  seemed  to  have  been 
posted  on  the  outskirts,  to  keep  a  look-out. 
At  sight  of  us,  the  picket  guards  scampered  in 
and  gave  the  alarm  ;  whereupon  every  inhabi 
tant  gave  a  short  yelp,  or  bark,  and  dived  into 
his  hole,  his  heels  twinkling  in  the  air  as  if 
he  had  thrown  a  somerset. 

We  traversed  the  whole  village,  or  republic, 
which  covered  an  area  of  about  thirty  acres  ; 
but  not  a  whisker  of  an  inhabitant  was  to  be 
seen.  We  probed  their  cells  as  far  as  the 


B  3out  on  tbe  prairies  245 

ramrods  of  our  rifles  would  reach,  but  could 
unearth  neither  dog,  nor  owl,  nor  rattlesnake. 
Moving  quietly  to  a  little  disiance,  we  lay  quiet 
and  motionless.  By-and-by  a  cautious  old 
burgher  would  slowly  put  forth  the  end  of 
his  nose,  but  instantly  draw  it  in  again.  An 
other  at  a  greater  distance,  would  emerge 
entirely ;  but,  catching  a  glance  of  us,  would 
throw  a  somerset,  and  plunge  back  again  into 
his  hole.  At  length,  some  who  resided  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  village,  taking  courage  from 
the  continued  stillness,  would  steal  forth,  and 
hurry  off  to  a  distant  hole,  the  residence  pos 
sibly  of  some  family  connection,  or  gossiping 
friend,  about  whose  safety  they  were  solicitous, 
or  with  whom  they  wished  to  compare  notes 
about  the  late  occurrences. 

Others,  still  more  bold,  assembled  in  little 
knots,  in  the  streets  and  public  places,  as  if  to 
discuss  the  recent  outrages  offered  to  the  com 
monwealth,  and  the  atrocious  murders  of  their 
fellow-burghers. 

We  rose  from  the  ground  and  moved  for 
ward,  to  take  a  nearer  view  of  these  public 
proceedings,  when,  yelp  !  yelp  !  yelp  ! — there 
was  a  shrill  alarm  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth  ;  the  meetings  suddenly  dispersed  ;  feet 
twinkled  in  the  air  in  every  direction  ;  and  in 
an  instant  all  had  vanished  into  the  earth. 


246  dragon 


The  dusk  of  the  evening  put  an  end  to  our 
observations,  but  the  train  of  whimsical  com 
parisons  produced  in  my  brain  by  the  moral 
attributes  which  I  had  heard  given  to  these 
little  politic  animals,  still  continued  after  my 
return  to  camp  ;  and  late  in  the  night,  as  I  lay 
awake  after  all  the  camp  was  asleep,  and 
heard,  in  the  stillness  of  the  hour,  a  faint 
clamor  of  shrill  voices  from  the  distant  village, 
I  could  not  help  picturing  to  myself  the  inhab 
itants  gathered  together  in  noisy  assemblage, 
and  windy  debate,  to  devise  plans  for  the  pub 
lic  safety,  and  to  vindicate  the  invaded  rights 
and  insulted  dignity  of  the  republic. 


Cbapter  f f f fim. 

A  Council  in  the  Camp — Reasons  for  Facing  Home 
wards — Horses  lyost — Departure  with  a  Detachment 
on  the  Homeward  Route — Swamp— Wild  Horse — 
Camp-scene  by  Night — The  Owl,  Harbinger  of 
Dawn. 

WHII,K    breakfast    was    preparing,    a 
council  was  held  as  to  our  future 
movements.      Symptoms  of  discon 
tent  had  appeared,   for  a  day  or  two  past, 
among  the  rangers,  most  of  whom,  unaccus 
tomed  to  the  life  of  the  prairies,  had  become 
impatient  of  its  privations,  as  well  as  the  re 
straints  of  the  camp.     The  want  of  bread  had 
been  felt  severely,  and  they  were  wearied  with 
constant  travel.     In  fact,  the  novelty  and  ex 
citement  of  the  expedition  were  at  an  end. 
They  had  hunted  the  deer,  the  bear,  the  elk, 
the  buffalo,  and  the  wild  horse,  and  had  no 
further  object  of  leading  interest  to  look  fbr- 
247 


248  dragon 


ward  to.  A  general  inclination  prevailed, 
therefore,  to  turn  homewards. 

Grave  reasons  disposed  the  Captain  and  his 
officers  to  adopt  this  resolution.  Our  horses 
were  generally  much  jaded  by  the  fatigue  of 
travelling  and  hunting,  and  had  fallen  away 
sadly  for  want  of  good  pasturage,  and  from 
being  tethered  at  night,  to  protect  them  from 
Indian  depredations.  The  late  rains,  too, 
seemed  to  have  washed  away  the  nourishment 
from  the  scanty  herbage  that  remained  ;  and 
since  our  encampment  during  the  storm  our 
horses  had  lost  flesh  and  strength  rapidly. 
With  every  possible  care,  horses  accustomed 
to  grain  and  to  the  regular  and  plentiful  nour 
ishment  of  the  stable  and  the  farm,  lose  heart 
and  condition  in  travelling  on  the  prairies. 
In  all  expeditions  of  the  kind  we  were  en 
gaged  in,  the  hardy  Indian  horses,  which  are 
generally  mustangs,  or  a  cross  of  the  wild 
breed,  are  to  be  preferred.  They  can  stand 
all  fatigues,  hardships,  and  privations,  and 
thrive  on  the  grasses  and  wild  herbage  of  the 
plains. 

Our  men,  too,  had  acted  with  little  fore 
thought  ;  galloping  off,  whenever  they  had  a 
chance,  after  the  game  that  we  encountered 
while  on  the  march.  In  this  way  they  had 
strained  and  wearied  their  horses,  instead  of 


Gout  on  tbe  fcrafrfes  249 


husbanding  their  strength  and  spirits.  On  a 
tour  of  the  kind,  horses  should  as  seldom  as 
possible  be  put  off  of  a  quiet  walk ;  and  the 
average  day's  journey  should  not  exceed  ten 
miles. 

We  had  hoped,  by  pushing  forward,  to  reach 
the  bottoms  of  the  Red  River,  which  abound 
with  young  cane,  a  most  nourishing  forage  for 
cattle  at  this  season  of  the  year.  It  would  now 
take  us  several  days  to  arrive  there,  and  in  the 
meantime  many  of  our  horses  would  probably 
give  out.  It  was  the  time,  too,  when  the 
hunting  parties  of  Indians  set  fire  to  the  prai 
ries  ;  the  herbage,  throughout  this  part  of  the 
country,  was  in  that  parched  state  favorable  to 
combustion,  and  there  was  daily  more  and 
more  risk  that  the  prairies  between  us  and  the 
fort  would  be  set  on  fire  by  some  of  the  return 
parties  of  Osages,  and  a  scorched  desert  left  for 
us  to  traverse.  In  a  word,  we  had  started  too 
late  in  the  season,  or  loitered  too  much  in  the 
early  part  of  our  march,  to  accomplish  our 
originally  intended  tour  ;  and  there  was  immi 
nent  hazard,  if  we  continued  on,  that  we  should 
lose  the  greater  part  of  our  horses  ;  and,  be 
sides  suffering  various  other  inconveniences, 
be  obliged  to  return  on  foot.  It  was  deter 
mined,  therefore,  to  give  up  all  further  pro 
gress,  and,  turning  our  faces  to  the  southeast, 


250  Crayon 


to  make  the  best  of  our  way  back  to  Fort 
Gibson. 

This  resolution  being  taken,  there  was  an 
immediate  eagerness  to  put  it  into  operation. 
Several  horses,  however,  were  missing,  and 
among  others  those  of  the  Captain  and  the 
Surgeon.  Persons  had  gone  in  search  of  them, 
but  the  morning  advanced  without  any  tidings 
of  them.  Our  party,  in  the  meantime,  being 
all  ready  for  a  march,  the  Commissioner  de 
termined  to  set  off  in  the  advance,  with  his 
original  escort  of  a  lieutenant  and  fourteen 
rangers,  leaving  the  Captain  to  come  on  at  his 
convenience,  with  the  main  body.  At  ten 
o'clock  we  accordingly  started,  under  the 
guidance  of  Beatte,  who  had  hunted  over  this 
part  of  the  country,  and  knew  the  direct  route 
to  the  garrison. 

For  some  distance  we  skirted  the  prairie, 
keeping  a  southeast  direction ;  and  in  the 
course  of  our  ride  we  saw  a  variety  of  wild 
animals,  deer,  white  and  black  wolves,  buffa 
loes,  and  wild  horses.  To  the  latter  our  half- 
breeds  and  Tonish  gave  ineffectual  chase,  only 
serving  to  add  to  the  weariness  of  their  already 
jaded  steeds.  Indeed,  it  is  rarely  that  any  but 
the  weaker  and  least  fleet  of  the  wild  horses 
are  taken  in  these  hard  racings  ;  while  the 
horse  of  the  huntsman  is  prone  to  be  knocked 


21  trout  on  tbe  prairies  251 

up.  The  latter,  in  fact,  risks  a  good  horse  to 
catch  a  bad  one.  On  this  occasion,  Tonish, 
who  was  a  perfect  imp  on  horseback,  and  noted 
for  ruining  every  animal  he  bestrode,  succeeded 
in  laming  and  almost  disabling  the  powerful 
gray  on  which  we  had  mounted  him  at  the 
outset  of  our  tour. 

After  proceeding  a  few  miles,  we  left  the 
prairie,  and  struck  to  the  east,  taking  what 
Beatte  pronounced  an  old  Osage  war-track. 
This  led  us  through  a  rugged  tract  of  country, 
overgrown  with  scrubbed  forests  and  entangled 
thickets,  and  intersected  by  deep  ravines  and 
brisk-running  streams,  the  sources  of  Little 
River.  About  three  o'clock,  we  encamped  by 
some  pools  of  water  in  a  small  valley,  having 
come  about  fourteen  miles.  We  had  brought 
on  a  supply  of  provisions  from  our  last  camp, 
and  supped  heartily  upon  stewed  buffalo  meat, 
roasted  venison,  beignets,  or  fritters  of  flour 
fried  in  bear's  lard,  and  tea  made  of  a  species 
of  the  golden-rod,  which  we  had  found, 
throughout  our  whole  route,  almost  as  grateful 
a  beverage  as  coffee,  which,  as  long  as  it  held 
out,  had  been  served  up  with  every  meal, 
according  to  the  custom  of  the  West,  was  by 
no  means  a  beverage  to  boast  of.  It  was 
roasted  in  a  frying-pan,  without  much  care, 
pounded  in  a  leathern  bag  with  a  round  stone, 


252  Gragon 


and  boiled  in  our  prime  and  almost  only 
kitchen  utensil,  the  camp-kettle,  in  *  *  branch ' ' 
or  brook  water ;  which,  on  the  prairies,  is 
deeply  colored  by  the  soil,  of  which  it  always 
holds  abundant  particles  in  a  state  of  solution 
and  suspension.  In  fact,  in  the  course  of  our 
tour,  we  had  tasted  the  quality  of  every  variety 
of  soil,  and  the  draughts  of  water  we  had 
taken  might  vie  in  diversity  of  color,  if  not 
of  flavor,  with  the  tinctures  of  an  apothecary's 
shop.  Pure,  limpid  water  is  a  rare  luxury  on 
the  prairies,  at  least  at  this  season  of  the  year. 
Supper  over,  we  placed  sentinels  about  our 
scanty  and  diminished  camp,  spread  our  skins 
and  blankets  under  the  trees,  now  nearly 
destitute  of  foliage,  and  slept  soundly  until 
morning. 

We  had  a  beautiful  daybreak.  The  camp 
again  resounded  with  cheerful  voices  ;  every 
one  was  animated  with  the  thoughts  of  soon 
being  at  the  fort,  and  revelling  on  bread  and 
vegetables.  Kven  our  saturnine  man,  Beatte, 
seemed  inspired  on  this  occasion  ;  and  as  he 
drove  up  the  horses  for  the  march,  I  heard 
him  singing,  in  nasal  tones,  a  most  forlorn 
Indian  ditty.  All  this  transient  gayety,  how 
ever,  soon  died  away  amidst  the  fatigues  of 
our  march,  which  lay  through  the  same  kind 
of  rough  hilly,  thicketed  country,  as  that  of 


Gout  on  tbe  iprafrfes  253 


yesterday.  In  the  course  of  the  morning  we 
arrived  at  the  valley  of  the  Little  River,  where 
it  wound  through  a  broad  bottom  of  alluvial 
soil.  At  present  it  had  overflowed  its  banks, 
and  inundated  a  great  part  of  the  valley. 
The  difficulty  was  to  distinguish  the  stream 
from  the  broad  sheets  of  water  it  had  formed, 
and  to  find  a  place  where  it  might  be  forded  ; 
for  it  was  in  general  deep  and  miry,  with 
abrupt  crumbling  banks.  Under  the  pilotage 
of  Beatte,  therefore,  we  wandered  for  some 
time  among  the  links  made  by  this  winding 
stream,  in  what  appeared  to  us  a  trackless 
labyrinth  of  swamps,  thickets,  and  standing 
pools.  Sometimes  our  jaded  horses  dragged 
their  limbs  forward  with  the  utmost  difficulty, 
having  to  toil  for  a  great  distance,  with  the 
water  up  to  the  stirrups,  and  beset  at  the 
bottom  with  roots  and  creeping  plants.  Some 
times  we  had  to  force  our  way  through  dense 
thickets  of  brambles  and  grape-vines,  which 
almost  pulled  us  out  of  our  saddles.  In  one 
place,  one  of  the  pack-horses  sunk  into  the 
mire  and  fell  on  his  side,  so  as  to  be  extricated 
with  great  difficulty.  Wherever  the  soil  was 
bare,  or  there  was  a  sandbank,  we  beheld 
innumerable  tracks  of  bears,  wolves,  wild- 
horses,  turkeys,  and  water-fowl  ;  showing  the 
abundant  sport  this  valley  might  afford  to  the 


254  Crayon 


huntsman.  Our  men,  however,  were  sated 
with  hunting,  and  too  weary  to  be  excited  by 
these  signs,  which  in  the  outset  of  our  tour 
would  have  put  them  in  a  fever  of  anticipation. 
Their  only  desire  at  present  was  to  push  on 
doggedly  for  the  fortress. 

At  length  we  succeeded  in  finding  a  fording- 
place,  where  we  all  crossed  little  River,  with 
the  water  and  mire  to  our  saddle-girths,  and 
then  halted  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  to  overhaul 
the  wet  baggage,  and  give  the  horses  time 
to  rest. 

On  resuming  our  march,  we  came  to  a 
pleasant  little  meadow,  surrounded  by  groves 
of  elms  and  cotton-wood  trees,  in  the  midst 
of  which  was  a  fine  black  horse  grazing. 
Beatte,  who  was  in  the  advance,  beckoned 
us  to  halt,  and,  being  mounted  on  a  mare, 
approached  the  animal  with  admirable  exact 
ness.  The  noble  courser  of  the  prairie  gazed 
for  a  time,  snuffed  the  air,  neighed,  pricked 
up  his  ears,  and  pranced  round  and  round  the 
mare  in  gallent  style,  but  kept  at  too  great  a 
distance  for  Beatte  to  throw  the  lariat.  He 
was  a  magnificent  object,  in  all  the  pride  and 
glory  of  his  nature.  It  was  admirable  to  see 
the  lofty  and  airy  carriage  of  his  head ;  the 
freedom  of  every  movement ;  the  elasticity 
with  which  he  trod  the  meadow.  Finding  it 


21  Cour  on  tbe  prairies  255 

impossible  to  get  within  noosing  distance, 
and  seeing  that  the  horse  was  receding  and 
growing  alarmed,  Beatte  slid  down  from  his 
saddle,  levelled  his  rifle  across  the  back  of  his 
mare,  and  took  aim,  with  the  evident  intention 
of  creasing  him.  I  felt  a  throb  of  anxiety 
for  the  safety  of  the  noble  animal,  and  called 
out  to  Beatte  to  desist.  It  was  too  late  ;  he 
pulled  the  trigger  as  I  spoke  ;  luckily  he  did 
not  shoot  with  his  usual  accuracy,  and  I  had 
the  satisfaction  to  see  the  coal-black  steed  dash 
off  unharmed  into  the  forest. 

On  leaving  this  valley,  we  ascended  among 
broken  hills  and  rugged,  ragged  forests,  equally 
harassing  to  horse  and  rider.  The  ravines, 
too,  were  of  red  clay,  and  often  so  steep  that, 
in  descending,  the  horses  would  put  their  feet 
together  and  fairly  slide  down,  and  then  scram 
ble  up  the  opposite  side  like  cats.  Here  and 
there  among  the  thickets  in  the  valleys,  we 
met  with  sloes  and  persimmon,  and  the  eager 
ness  with  which  our  men  broke  from  the  line 
of  march,  and  ran  to  gather  these  poor  fruits, 
showed  how  much  they  craved  some  vegetable 
condiment,  after  living  so  long  exclusively  on 
animal  food. 

About  half-past  three  we  encamped  near  a 
brook  in  a  meadow,  where  there  was  some 
scanty  herbage  for  our  half-famished  horses. 


256  dragon 


As  Beatte  had  killed  a  fat  doe  in  the  course  of 
the  day,  and  one  of  our  company  a  fine  turkey, 
we  did  not  lack  for  provisions. 

It  was  a  splendid  autumnal  evening.  The 
horizon,  after  sunset,  was  of  a  clear  apple-green, 
rising  into  a  delicate  lake  which  gradually  lost 
itself  in  a  deep  purple  blue.  One  narrow  streak 
of  cloud,  of  a  mahogany  color,  edged  with 
amber  and  gold,  floated  in  the  west,  and  just 
beneath  it  was  the  evening  star,  shining  with 
the  pure  brilliancy  of  a  diamond.  In  unison 
with  this  scene  there  was  an  evening  concert 
of  insects  of  various  kinds,  all  blended  and 
harmonized  into  one  sober  and  somewhat 
melancholy  note,  which  I  have  always  found 
to  have  a  soothing  effect  upon  the  mind,  dis 
posing  it  to  quiet  musings. 

The  night  that  succeeded  was  calm  and 
beautiful.  There  was  a  faint  light  from  the 
moon,  now  in  its  second  quarter,  and  after  it 
had  set,  a  fine  starlight,  with  shooting  meteors. 
The  wearied  rangers,  after  a  little  murmuring 
conversation  round  their  fires,  sank  to  rest  at 
an  early  hour,  and  I  seemed  to  have  the  whole 
scene  to  myself.  It  is  delightful,  in  thus  bi 
vouacking  on  the  prairies,  to  lie  awake  and 
gaze  at  the  stars;  it  is  like  watching  them 
from  the  deck  of  a  ship  at  sea,  when  at  one 
view  we  have  the  whole  cope  of  heaven.  One 


B  Gour  on  tbe  prairies  257 

realizes,  in  such  lonely  scenes,  that  companion 
ship  with  these  beautiful  luminaries  which 
made  astronomers  of  the  eastern  shepherds,  as 
they  watched  their  flocks  by  night.  How 
often,  while  contemplating  their  mild  and 
benignant  radiance,  I  have  called  to  mind  the 
exquisite  text  of  Job, — "Canst  thou  bind  the 
secret  influences  of  the  Pleiades,  or  loose  the 
bands  of  Orion  ?  "  I  do  not  know  why  it  was, 
but  I  felt  this  night  unusually  affected  by  the 
solemn  magnificence  of  the  firmament ;  and 
seemed,  as  I  lay  thus  under  the  open  vault  of 
heaven,  to  inhale  with  the  pure  untainted  air 
an  exhilarating  buoyancy  of  spirit,  and,  as  it 
were,  an  ecstasy  of  mind.  I  slept  and  waked 
alternately  ;  and  when  I  slept,  my  dreams  par 
took  of  the  happy  tone  of  my  waking  reveries. 
Towards  morning,  one  of  the  sentinels,  the 
oldest  man  in  the  troop,  came  and  took  a  seat 
near  me :  he  was  weary  and  sleepy,  and  im 
patient  to  be  relieved.  I  found  he  had  been 
gazing  at  the  heavens  also,  but  with  different 
feelings. 

"  If  the  stars  don't  deceive  me,"  said  he, 
11  it  is  near  daybreak." 

' '  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that, ' '  said  Beatte, 
who  lay  close  by.  "I  heard  an  owl  j  ust  now.  * ' 

' '  Does  the  owl,  then,  hoot  towards  day 
break?"  asked  I. 

VOL.  I.— 17 


258 


Crayon 


"  Aye,  sir,  just  as  the  cock  crows.'* 
This  was  a  useful  habitude  of  the  bird  of 
wisdom,  of  which  I  was  not  aware.  Neither 
the  stars  nor  owl  deceived  their  votaries.  In 
a  short  time  there  was  a  faint  streak  of  light  in 
the  east. 


Cbaptet 


Old  Creek  Encampment  —  Scarcity  of  Provisions  —  Bad 
Weather  —  Weary  Marching  —  A  Hunter's  Bridge. 

THE  country  through  which  we  passed  this 
morning  (Nov.  2),  was  less  rurjged,  and 
of  more  agreeable  aspect  than  that  we 
had  lately  traversed.  At  eleven  o'clock  we 
came  out  upon  an  extensive  prairie,  and  about 
six  miles  to  our  left  beheld  a  long  line  of  green 
forest,  marking  the  course  of  the  north  fork  of 
the  Arkansas.  On  the  edge  of  the  prairie,  and 
in  a  spacious  grove  of  noble  trees  which  over 
shadowed  a  small  brook,  were  the  traces  of  an 
old  Creek  hunting-camp.  On  the  bark  of  the 
trees  were  rude  delineations  of  hunters  and 
squaws,  scrawled  with  charcoal  ;  together  with 
various  signs  and  hieroglyphics,  which  our 
half-breeds  interpreted  as  indicating  that  from 
this  encampment  the  hunters  had  returned 
home. 

In  this  beautiful  camping-ground  we  made 
259 


260  Crayon 


our  mid-day  halt.  While  reposing  under  the 
trees,  we  heard  a  shouting  at  no  great  distance, 
and  presently  the  Captain  and  the  main  body 
of  rangers,  whom  we  had  left  behind  two  days 
since,  emerged  from  the  thickets,  and  crossing 
the  brook,  were  joyfully  welcomed  into  the 
camp.  The  Captain  and  the  Doctor  had  been 
unsuccessful  in  the  search  after  their  horses, 
and  were  obliged  to  march  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  time  on  foot  ;  yet  they  had  come  on 
with  more  than  ordinary  speed. 

We  resumed  our  march  about  one  o'clock, 
keeping  easterly,  and  approaching  the  north 
fork  obliquely  ;  it  was  late  before  we  found  a 
good  camping-place  ;  the  beds  of  the  streams 
were  dry,  the  prairies,  too,  had  been  burnt  in 
various  places,  by  Indian  hunting-parties.  At 
length  we  found  water  in  a  small  alluvial  bot 
tom,  where  there  was  tolerable  pasturage. 

On  the  following  morning  there  were  flashes 
of  lightning  in  the  east,  with  low,  rumbling 
thunder,  and  clouds  began  to  gather  about  the 
horizon.  Beatte  prognosticated  rain,  and  that 
the  wind  would  veer  to  the  north.  In  the  course 
of  our  march,  a  flock  of  brant  were  seen  over 
head,  flying  from  the  north.  "There  comes 
the  wind  !  '  '  said  Beatte  ;  and,  in  fact,  it  began 
to  blow  from  that  quarter  almost  immediately, 
with  occasional  flurries  of  rain.  About  half- 


tlcwr  on  tbe  prairies  261 


past  nine  o'clock,  we  forded  the  north  fork  of 
the  Canadian,  and  encamped  about  one,  that 
our  hunters  might  have  time  to  beat  up  the 
neighborhood  for  game  ;  for  a  serious  scarcity 
began  to  prevail  in  the  camp.  Most  of  the 
rangers  were  young,  heedless,  and  inexperi 
enced,  and  could  not  be  prevailed  upon,  while 
provisions  abounded,  to  provide  for  the  future, 
by  jerking  meat,  or  carrying  away  any  on  their 
horses.  On  leaving  an  encampment,  they 
would  leave  quantities  of  meat  lying  about, 
trusting  to  Providence  and  their  rifles  for  a 
future  supply.  The  consequence  was,  that  any 
temporary  scarcity  of  game,  or  ill  luck  in  hunt 
ing,  produced  almost  a  famine  in  the  camp. 
In  the  present  instance,  they  had  left  loads  of 
buffalo  meat  at  the  camp  on  the  great  prairie  ; 
and  having  ever  since  been  on  a  forced  march, 
leaving  no  time  for  hunting,  they  were  now 
destitute  of  supplies,  and  pinched  with  hunger. 
Some  had  not  eaten  anything  since  the  morn 
ing  of  the  preceding  day.  Nothing  would  have 
persuaded  them,  when  revelling  in  the  abun 
dance  of  the  buffalo  encampment,  that  they 
would  so  soon  be  in  such  famishing  plight. 

The  hunters  returned  with  indifferent  suc 
cess.  The  game  had  been  frightened  away 
from  this  part  of  the  country  by  Indian  hunting- 
parties  which  had  preceded  us.  Ten  or  a  dozen 


262  dragon  dbiscellang 


wild  turkeys  were  brought  in,  but  not  a  deer 
had  been  seen.  The  rangers  began  to  think 
turkeys  and  even  prairie-hens  deserving  of  at 
tention, — game  which  they  had  hitherto  con 
sidered  unworthy  of  their  rifles. 

The  night  was  cold  and  windy,  with  occa 
sional  sprinkling  of  rain  ;  but  we  had  roaring 
fires  to  keep  us  comfortable.  In  the  night  a 
flight  of  wild  geese  passed  over  the  camp,  mak 
ing  a  great  cackling  in  the  air, — symptoms  of 
approaching  winter. 

We  set  forward  at  an  early  hour  the  next 
morning,  in  a  northeast  course,  and  came  upon 
the  trace  of  a  party  of  Creek  Indians,  which 
enabled  our  poor  horses  to  travel  with  more 
ease.  We  entered  upon  a  fine  champaign 
country.  From  a  rising  ground  we  had  a  noble 
prospect,  over  extensive  prairies,  finely  diversi 
fied  by  groves  and  tracts  of  woodland,  and 
bounded  by  long  lines  of  distant  hills,  all 
clothed  with  the  rich  mellow  tints  of  autumn. 
Game,  too,  was  more  plenty.  A  fine  buck 
sprang  up  from  among  the  herbage  on  our 
right,  and  dashed  off  at  full  speed  ;  but  a  young 
ranger  by  the  name  of  Childers,  who  was  on 
foot,  levelled  his  rifle,  discharged  a  ball  that 
broke  the  neck  of  the  bounding  deer,  and 
sent  him  tumbling  head-over-heels  forward. 
Another  buck  and  a  doe,  beside  several  turkeys, 


Gour  on  tbe  prairies  263 


were  killed  before  we  came  to  a  halt,  so  that 
the  hungry  mouths  of  the  troop  were  once 
more  supplied. 

About  three  o'clock  we  encamped  in  a  grove, 
after  a  forced  march  of  twenty-five  miles,  that 
had  proved  a  hard  trial  to  the  horses.  For  a 
long  time  after  the  head  of  the  line  had  en 
camped,  the  rest  kept  straggling  in,  two  and 
three  at  a  time  ;  one  of  our  pack-horses  had 
given  out,  about  nine  miles  back,  and  a  pony 
belonging  to  Beatte,  shortly  after.  Many  of 
the  other  horses  looked  so  gaunt  and  feeble, 
that  doubts  were  entertained  of  their  being  able 
to  reach  the  fort.  In  the  night  there  was  heavy 
rain,  and  the  morning  dawned  cloudy  and  dis 
mal.  The  camp  resounded,  however,  with 
something  of  its  former  gayety.  The  rangers 
had  supped  well,  and  were  renovated  in  spirits, 
anticipating  a  speedy  arrival  at  the  garrison. 
Before  we  set  forward  on  our  march,  Beatte  re 
turned,  and  brought  his  pony  to  the  camp  with 
great  difficulty.  The  pack-horse,  however, 
was  completely  knocked  up,  and  had  to  be 
abandoned.  The  wild  mare,  too,  had  cast  her 
foal,  through  exhaustion,  and  was  not  in  a 
state  to  go  forward.  She  and  the  pony,  there 
fore,  were  left  at  this  encampment,  where  there 
was  water  and  good  pasturage,  and  where  there 
would  be  a  chance  of  their  reviving,  and  being 


264  Crayon 


afterwards  sought    out    and  brought  to  the 
garrison. 

We  set  off  about  eight  o'clock,  and  had  a 
day  of  weary  and  harassing  travel ;  part  of 
the  time  over  rough  hills,  and  part  over  rolling 
prairies.  The  rain  had  rendered  the  soil  slip 
pery  and  plashy,  so  as  to  afford  unsteady  foot 
hold.  Some  of  the  rangers  dismounted,  their 
horses  having  no  longer  strength  to  bear  them. 
We  made  a  halt  in  the  course  of  the  morning, 
but  the  horses  were  too  tired  to  graze.  Several 
of  them  laid  down,  and  there  was  some  diffi 
culty  in  getting  them  on  their  feet  again.  Our 
troop  presented  a  forlorn  appearance,  strag 
gling  slowly  along,  in  a  broken  and  scattered 
line,  that  extended  over  hill  and  dale,  for  three 
miles  and  upwards,  in  groups  of  three  and  four 
widely  apart ;  some  on  horseback,  some  on  foot, 
with  a  few  laggards  far  in  the  rear.  About 
four  o'clock  we  halted  for  the  night  in  a  spa 
cious  forest,  beside  a  deep  narrow  river,  called 
the  Little  North  Fork,  or  Deep  Creek.  It  was 
late  before  the  main  part  of  the  troop  straggled 
into  the  encampment,  many  of  the  horses  hav 
ing  given  out.  As  this  stream  was  too  deep  to 
be  forded,  we  waited  until  the  next  day  to  de 
vise  means  to  cross  it ;  but  our  half-breeds 
swam  the  horses  of  our  party  to  the  other  side 
in  the  evening,  as  they  would  have  better 


B  aour  on  tbe  prairies  265 

pasturage,  and  the  stream  was  evidently  swell 
ing.  The  night  was  cold  and  unruly  ;  the 
wind  sounding  hoarsely  through  the  forest  and 
whirling  about  the  dry  leaves.  We  made  long 
fires  of  great  trunks  of  trees,  which  diffused 
something  of  consolation  if  not  cheerfulness 
around. 

The  next  morning  there  was  general  per 
mission  given  to  hunt  until  twelve  o'clock, 
the  camp  being  destitute  of  provisions.  The 
rich  woody  bottom  in  which  we  were  encamped 
abounded  with  wild  turkeys,  of  which  a  con 
siderable  number  were  killed.  In  the  mean 
time,  preparations  were  made  for  crossing  the 
river,  which  had  risen  several  feet  during  the 
night ;  and  it  was  determined  to  fell  trees  for 
the  purpose,  to  serve  as  bridges. 

The  Captain  and  Doctor,  and  one  or  two 
other  leaders  of  the  camp,  versed  in  woodcraft, 
examined  with  learned  eye  the  trees  growing 
on  the  river-bank,  until  they  singled  out  a 
couple  of  the  largest  size,  and  most  suitable 
inclinations.  The  axe  was  then  vigorously 
applied  to  their  roots,  in  such  a  way  as  to  insure 
their  falling  directly  across  the  stream.  As 
they  did  not  reach  to  the  opposite  bank,  it  was 
necessary  for  some  of  the  men  to  swim  across 
and  fell  trees  on  the  other  side,  to  meet  them. 
They  at  length  succeeded  in  making  a  preca- 


266  Crayon 


nous  footway  across  the  deep  and  rapid  current, 
by  which  the  baggage  could  be  carried  over  ; 
but  it  was  necessary  to  grope  our  way,  step  by 
step,  along  the  trunks  and  main  branches  of 
the  trees,  which  for  a  part  of  the  distance  were 
completely  submerged,  so  that  we  were  to  our 
waists  in  water.  Most  of  the  horses  were  then 
swum  across,  but  some  of  them  were  too  weak 
to  brave  the  current,  and  evidently  too  much 
knocked  up  to  bear  any  further  travel.  Twelve 
men,  therefore,  were  left  at  the  encampment  to 
guard  these  horses,  until  by  repose  and  good 
pasturage  they  should  be  sufficiently  recovered 
to  complete  their  journey ;  and  the  Captain 
engaged  to  send  the  men  a  supply  of  flour  and 
other  necessaries,  as  soon  as  we  should  arrive 
at  the  Fort. 


Cbapter  f  f  f  ID. 

A  lyook-out  for  Land — Hard  Travelling  and  Hungry 

Halting — A  Frontier  Farm-house — Arrival 

at  the  Garrison. 

IT  was  a  little  after  one  o'clock  when  we 
again  resumed  our  weary  wayfaring.  The 
residue  of  that  day  and  the  whole  of  the 
next  were  spent  in  toilsome  travel.  Part  of 
the  way  was  over  stony  hills,  part  across  wide 
prairies,  rendered  spongy  and  miry  by  the 
recent  rain,  and  cut  up  by  brooks  swollen  into 
torrents.  Our  poor  horses  were  so  feeble,  that 
it  was  with  difficulty  we  could  get  them  across 
the  deep  ravines  and  turbulent  streams.  In 
traversing  the  miry  plains,  they  slipped  and 
staggered  at  every  step,  and  most  of  us  were 
obliged  to  dismount  and  walk  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  way.  Hunger  prevailed  through 
out  the  troop  ;  every  one  began  to  look  anxious 
and  haggard,  and  to  feel  the  growing  length 
of  each  additional  mile.  At  one  time,  in  cross- 
267 


268  dragon  /BMsceUang 


ing  a.  hill,  Beatte  climbed  a  high  tree  command 
ing  a  wide  prospect,  and  took  a  look-out,  like 
a  mariner  from  the  mast-head  at  sea.  He  came 
down  with  cheering  tidings.  To  the  left  he 
had  beheld  a  line  of  forest  stretching  across  the 
country,  which  he  knew  to  be  the  woody  bor 
der  of  the  Arkansas  ;  and  at  a  distance  he  had 
recognized  certain  landmarks,  from  which  he 
concluded  that  we  could  not  be  above  forty 
miles  distant  from  the  fort.  It  was  like  the 
welcome  cry  of  land  to  tempest-tossed  mari 
ners. 

In  fact,  we  soon  after  saw  smoke  rising  from 
a  woody  glen  at  a  distance.  It  was  supposed 
to  be  made  by  a  hunting-party  of  Creek  or 
Osage  Indians  from  the  neighborhood  of  the 
fort,  and  was  joyfully  hailed  as  a  harbinger  of 
man.  It  was  now  confidently  hoped  that  we 
would  soon  arrive  among  the  frontier  hamlets 
of  Creek  Indians,  which  are  scattered  along 
the  skirts  of  the  uninhabited  wilderness  ;  and 
our  hungry  rangers  trudged  forward  with  re 
viving  spirit,  regaling  themselves  with  savory 
anticipations  of  farm-house  luxuries,  and 
enumerating  every  article  of  good  cheer,  until 
their  mouths  fairly  watered  at  the  shadowy 
feasts  thus  conjured  up. 

A  hungry  night,  however,  closed  in  upon  a 
toilsome  day.  We  encamped  on  the  border  of 


tlour  on  tbe  jpratries  269 


one  of  the  tributary  streams  of  the  Arkansas, 
amidst  the  ruins  of  a  stately  grove  that  had 
been  riven  by  a  hurricane.  The  blast  had  torn 
its  way  through  the  forest  in  a  narrow  column, 
and  its  course  was  marked  by  enormous  trees, 
shivered  and  splintered,  and  upturned,  with 
their  roots  in  the  air  :  all  lay  in  one  direction, 
like  so  many  brittle  reeds  broken  and  trodden 
down  by  the  hunter. 

Here  was  fuel  in  abundance,  without  the 
labor  of  the  axe  :  we  had  soon  immense  fires 
blazing  and  sparkling  in  the  frosty  air,  and 
lighting  up  the  whole  forest  ;  but,  alas  !  we 
had  no  meat  to  cook  at  them.  The  scarcity  in 
the  camp  almost  amounted  to  famine.  Happy 
was  he  who  had  a  morsel  of  jerked  meat,  or 
even  the  half-picked  bones  of  a  former  repast. 
For  our  part,  we  were  more  lucky  at  our  mess 
than  our  neighbors,  one  of  our  men  having 
shot  a  turkey.  We  had  no  bread  to  eat  with 
it,  nor  salt  to  season  it  withal.  It  was  simply 
boiled  in  water  ;  the  latter  was  served  up  as  a 
soup  ;  and  we  were  fain  to  rub  each  morsel  of 
turkey  on  the  empty  salt-bag,  in  hopes  some 
saline  particle  might  remain  to  relieve  its 
insipidity. 

The  night  was  biting  cold  ;  the  brilliant 
moonlight  sparkled  on  the  frosty  crystals  which 
covered  every  object  around  us.  The  water 


270  dragon 


froze  beside  the  skins  on  which  we  bivouacked, 
and  in  the  morning  I  found  the  blanket  in 
which  I  was  wrapped  covered  with  a  hoar 
frost  ;  yet  I  had  never  slept  more  comfortably. 

After  a  shadow  of  a  breakfast,  consisting  of 
turkey-bones  and  a  cup  of  coffee  without  sugar, 
we  decamped  at  an  early  hour ;  for  hunger  is  a 
sharp  quickener  on  a  journey.  The  prairies 
were  all  gemmed  with  frost,  that  covered  the 
tall  weeds  and  glistened  in  the  sun.  We  saw 
great  flights  of  prairie-hens,  or  grouse,  that 
hovered  from  tree  to  tree,  or  sat  in  rows  along 
the  naked  branches,  waiting  until  the  sun 
should  melt  the  frost  from  the  weeds  and  herb 
age.  Our  rangers  no  longer  despised  such 
humble  game,  but  turned  from  the  ranks  in 
pursuit  of  a  prairie-hen  as  eagerly  as  they 
formerly  would  go  in  pursuit  of  a  deer. 

Every  one  now  pushed  forward,  anxious  to 
arrive  at  some  human  habitation  before  night. 
The  poor  horses  were  urged  beyond  their 
strength,  in  the  thought  of  soon  being  able  to 
indemnify  them  for  present  toil  by  rest  and 
ample  provender.  Still  the  distances  seemed 
to  stretch  out  more  than  ever,  and  the  blue  hills, 
pointed  out  as  landmarks  on  the  horizon, 
to  recede  as  we  advanced.  Every  step  became 
a  labor  ;  every  now  and  then  a  miserable  horse 
would  give  out  and  lie  down.  His  owner 


B  Gout  on  tbe  iprafrfes  271 

would  raise  him  by  main  strength,  force  him 
forward  to  the  margin  of  some  stream,  where 
there  might  be  a  scanty  border  of  herbage, 
and  then  abandon  him  to  his  fate.  Among 
those  that  were  thus  left  on  the  way,  was  one 
of  the  led  horses  of  the  Count ;  a  prime  hun 
ter,  that  had  taken  the  lead  of  everything  in 
the  chase  of  the  wild  horses.  It  was  intended, 
however,  as  soon  as  we  should  arrive  at  the 
fort,  to  send  out  a  party  provided  with  corn,  to 
bring  in  such  of  the  horses  as  should  survive. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  we  came  upon 
Indian  tracks,  crossing  each  other  in  various 
directions,  a  proof  that  we  must  be  in  the 
neighborhood  of  human  habitations.  At  length, 
on  passing  through  a  skirt  of  wood,  we  beheld 
two  or  three  log  houses,  sheltered  under  lofty 
trees  on  the  border  of  a  prairie,  the  habita 
tions  of  Creek  Indians,  who  had  small  farms 
adjacent.  Had  they  been  sumptuous  villas, 
abounding  with  the  luxuries  of  civilization, 
they  could  not  have  been  hailed  with  greater 
delight. 

Some  of  the  rangers  rode  up  to  them  in 
quest  of  food ;  the  greater  part,  however, 
pushed  forward  in  search  of  the  habitation  of 
a  white  settler,  which  we  were  told  was  at  no 
great  distance.  The  troop  soon  disappeared 
among  the  trees,  and  I  followed  slowly  in  their 


272  Crayon  fl&tecellani> 

track  ;  for  my  once  fleet  and  generous  steed 
faltered  under  me,  and  was  just  able  to  drag 
one  foot  after  another ;  yet  I  was  too  weary 
and  exhausted  to  spare  him. 

In  this  way  we  crept  on,  until,  on  turning  a 
thick  clump  of  trees,  a  frontier  farm-house 
suddenly  presented  itself  to  view.  It  was  a 
low  tenement  of  logs,  over-shadowed  by  great 
forest-trees,  but  it  seemed  as  if  a  very  region 
of  Cocaigne  prevailed  around  it.  Here  was 
a  stable  and  barn,  and  granaries  teeming  with 
abundance,  while  legions  of  grunting  swine, 
gobbling  turkeys,  cackling  hens,  and  strutting 
roosters,  swarmed  about  the  farm-yard. 

My  poor,  jaded,  and  half-famished  horse 
raised  his  head  and  pricked  up  his  ears  at  the 
well-known  sights  and  sounds.  He  gave  a 
chuckling  inward  sound,  something  like  a  dry 
laugh,  whisked  his  tail,  and  made  great  leeway 
toward  a  corn-crib  filled  with  golden  ears  of 
maize  ;  and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that  I 
could  control  his  course,  and  steer  him  up  to 
the  door  of  the  cabin.  A  single  glance  within 
was  sufficient  to  raise  every  gastronomic  faculty. 
There  sat  the  Captain  of  the  rangers  and  his 
officers,  round  a  three-legged  table,  crowned 
by  a  broad  and  smoking  dish  of  boiled  beef 
and  turnips.  I  sprang  off  my  horse  in  an 
instant,  cast  him  loose  to  make  his  way  to  the 


tlour  on  tbe  prairies  273 


corn-crib,  and  entered  this  palace  of  plenty. 
A  fat,  good-humored  negress  received  me  at  the 
door.  She  was  the  mistress  of  the  house,  the 
spouse  of  the  white  man,  who  was  absent.  I 
hailed  her  as  some  swart  fairy  of  the  wild,  that 
had  suddenly  conjured  up  a  banquet  in  the 
desert  ;  and  a  banquet  was  it  in  good  sooth. 
In  a  twinkling,  she  lugged  from  the  fire  a  huge 
iron  pot,  that  might  have  rivalled  one  of  the 
famous  flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  or  the  witches' 
caldron  in  Macbeth.  Placing  a  brown  earthen 
dish  on  the  floor,  she  inclined  the  corpulent 
caldron  on  one  side,  and  out  leaped  sundry 
great  morsels  of  beef,  with  a  regiment  of  tur 
nips  tumbling  after  them,  and  a  rich  cascade 
of  broth  overflowing  the  whole.  This  she 
handed  me  with  an  ivory  smile  that  extended 
from  ear  to  ear  ;  apologizing  for  our  humble 
fare,  and  the  humble  style  in  which  it  was 
served  up.  Humble  fare  !  humble  style  ! 
Boiled  beef  and  turnips,  and  an  earthen  dish 
to  eat  them  from  !  To  think  of  apologizing 
for  such  a  treat  to  a  half-starved  man  from  the 
prairies  ;  and  then  such  magnificent  slices  of 
bread  and  butter.  Head  of  Apicius,  what  a 
banquet  ! 

"The  rage  of  hunger"  being  appeased,  I 
began  to  think  of  my  horse.  He,  however, 
like  an  old  campaigner,  had  taken  good  care 

VOL    I.—  18 


274  Crayon 


of  himself.  I  found  him  paying  assiduous 
attention  to  the  crib  of  Indian  corn,  and 
dexterously  drawing  forth  and  munching  the 
ears  that  protruded  between  the  bars.  It  was 
with  great  regret  that  I  interrupted  his  repast, 
which  he  abandoned  with  a  heavy  sigh,  or 
rather  a  rumbling  groan.  I  was  anxious, 
however,  to  join  my  travelling  companions, 
who  had  passed  by  the  farm-house  without 
stopping,  and  proceeded  to  the  banks  of  the 
Arkansas,  being  in  hopes  of  arriving  before 
night  at  the  Osage  Agency.  leaving  the 
Captain  and  his  troop,  therefore,  amidst  the 
abundance  of  the  farm,  where  they  had  deter 
mined  to  quarter  themselves  for  the  night,  I 
bade  adieu  to  our  sable  hostess,  and  again 
pushed  forward. 

A  ride  of  about  a  mile  brought  me  to  where 
my  comrades  were  waiting  on  the  banks  of 
the  Arkansas,  which  here  poured  along  between 
beautiful  forests.  A  number  of  Creek  Indians, 
in  their  brightly  colored  dresses  looking  like 
so  many  gay  tropical  birds,  were  busy  aiding 
our  men  transport  the  baggage  across  the  river 
in  a  canoe.  While  this  was  doing,  our  horses 
had  another  regale  from  two  great  cribs  heaped 
up  with  ears  of  Indian  corn,  which  stood  near 
the  edge  of  the  river.  We  had  to  keep  a 
check  upon  the  poor  half-famished  animals, 


aour  on  tbe  prairies  275 


lest  they  should  injure  themselves  by  their 
voracity. 

The  baggage  being  all  carried  to  the  opposite 
bank,  we  embarked  in  the  canoe,  and  swam 
our  horses  across  the  river.  I  was  fearful  lest, 
in  their  enfeebled  state,  they  should  not  be 
able  to  stem  the  current  ;  but  their  banquet  of 
Indian  corn  had  already  infused  fresh  life  and 
spirit  into  them,  and  it  would  appear  as  if  they 
were  cheered  by  the  instinctive  consciousness 
of  their  approach  to  home,  where  they  would 
soon  be  at  rest,  and  in  plentiful  quarters  ;  for 
no  sooner  had  we  •  landed  and  resumed  our 
route,  than  they  set  off  on  a  hand-gallop,  and 
continued  so  for  a  great  part  of  seven  miles 
that  we  had  to  ride  through  the  woods. 

It  was  an  early  hour  in  the  evening  when 
we  arrived  at  the  Agency,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Verdigris  River,  whence  we  had  set  off  about 
a  month  before.  Here  we  passed  the  night 
comfortably  quartered  ;  yet,  after  having  been 
accustomed  to  sleep  in  the  open  air,  the  con 
finement  of  a  chamber  was,  in  some  respects, 
irksome.  The  atmosphere  seemed  close,  and 
destitute  of  freshness  ;  and  when  I  awoke  in 
the  night  and  gazed  about  me  upon  complete 
darkness,  I  missed  the  glorious  companionship 
of  the  stars. 

The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  I  again 


276 


Crayon  fl&tecellang 


set  forward,  in  company  with  the  worthy  Com 
missioner,  for  Fort  Gibson,  where  we  arrived 
much  tattered,  travel-stained,  and  weather- 
beaten,  but  in  high  health  and  spirits.  And 
thus  ended  my  foray  into  the  Pawnee  Hunting- 
Grounds. 


Hbboteforfc, 


277 


ABBOTSFORD. 


I   SIT  down  to  perform  my  promise  of  giving 
you  an  account  of  a  visit  made  years 
since  to  Abbotsford.     I  hope,  however, 
that  you  do  not  expect  much  from  me,  for  the 
travelling  notes  taken  at  the  time  are  so  scanty 
and  vague,  and  my  memory  so  extremely  fal 
lacious,  that  I  fear  I  shall  disappoint  you  with 
the  meagreness  and  crudeness  of  my  details. 

I^ate  in  the  evening  of  the  2Qth  of  August, 
1817, 1  arrived  at  the  ancient  little  border- town 
of  Selkirk,  where  I  put  up  for  the  night.  I 
had  come  down  from  Edinburgh,  partly  to 
visit  Melrose  Abbey  and  its  vicinity,  but 
chiefly  to  get  a  sight  of  the  "  mighty  minstrel 
of  the  north."  I  had  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  him  from  Thomas  Campbell  the  poet,  and 
had  reason  to  think,  from  the  interest  he  had 
taken  in  some  of  my  earlier  scribblings,  that  a 
visit  from  me  would  not  be  deemed  an  intrusion. 
279 


280  dragon 


On  the  following  morning,  after  an  early 
breakfast,  I  set  off  in  a  post-chaise  for  the 
Abbey.  On  the  way  thither  I  stopped  at  the 
gate  of  Abbotsford,  and  sent  the  postilion  to 
the  house  with  the  letter  of  introduction  and 
my  card,  on  which  I  had  written  that  I  was 
on  my  way  to  the  ruins  of  Melrose  Abbey,  and 
wished  to  know  whether  it  would  be  agreeable 
to  Mr.  Scott  (he  had  not  yet  been  made  a  Bar 
onet)  to  receive  a  visit  from  me  in  the  course 
of  the  morning. 

While  the  postilion  was  on  his  errand,  I  had 
time  to  survey  the  mansion.  It  stood  some 
short  distance  below  the  road,  on  the  side  of  a 
hill  sweeping  down  to  the  Tweed ;  and  was  as 
yet  but  a  snug  gentleman's  cottage,  with  some 
thing  rural  and  picturesque  in  its  appearance. 
The  whole  front  was  overrun  with  evergreens, 
and  immediately  above  the  portal  was  a  great 
pair  of  elk-horns,  branching  out  from  beneath 
the  foliage,  and  giving  the  cottage  the  look  of 
a  hunting-lodge.  The  huge  baronial  pile,  to 
which  this  modest  mansion  in  a  manner  gave 
birth,  was  just  emerging  into  existence :  part 
of  the  walls  surrounded  by  scaffolding,  already 
had  risen  to  the  height  of  the  cottage,  and  the 
courtyard  in  front  was  encumbered  by  masses 
of  hewn  stone. 

The  noise  of  the  chaise  had  disturbed  the 


BbbotsforD  281 


quiet  of  the  establishment.  Out  sallied  the 
warder  of  the  castle,  a  black  greyhound,  and, 
leaping  on  one  of  the  blocks  of  stone,  began  a 
furious  barking.  His  alarum  brought  out  the 
whole  garrison  of  dogs, — 

"  Both  mongrel,  puppy,  whelp,  and  hound, 
And  curs  of  low  degree"  ; 

all  open-mouthed  and  vociferous. — I  should 
correct  my  quotation  ;  not  a  cur  was  to  be 
seen  on  the  premises :  Scott  was  too  true  a 
sportsman,  and  had  too  high  a  veneration  for 
pure  blood,  to  tolerate  a  mongrel. 

In  a  little  while  the  "  lord  of  the  castle  " 
himself  made  his  appearance.  I  knew  him  at 
once  by  the  descriptions  I  had  read  and  heard, 
and  the  likenesses  that  had  been  published  of 
him.  He  was  tall,  and  of  a  large  and  powerful 
frame.  His  dress  was  simple,  and  almost 
rustic :  an  old  green  shooting-coat,  with  a 
dog-whistle  at  the  button-hole,  brown  linen 
pantaloons,  stout  shoes  that  tied  at  the  ankles, 
and  a  white  hat  that  had  evidently  seen  ser 
vice.  He  came  limping  up  the  gravel  walk, 
aiding  himself  by  a  stout  walking  staff,  but 
moving  rapidly  and  with  vigor.  By  his  side 
jogged  along  a  large  iron-gray  staghound  of 
most  grave  demeanor,  who  took  no  part  in  the 
clamor  of  the  canine  rabble,  but  seemed  to  con- 


282  dragon  /HMsceUang 


sider  himself  bound,  for  the  dignity  of  the 
house,  to  give  me  a  courteous  reception. 

Before  Scott  had  reached  the  gate  he  called 
out  in  a  hearty  tone,  welcoming  me  to  Abbots- 
ford,  and  asking  news  of  Campbell.  Arrived 
at  the  door  of  the  chaise,  he  grasped  me 
warmly  by  the  hand:  "Come,  drive  down, 
drive  down  to  the  house,"  said  he,  "  ye  're  just 
in  time  for  breakfast,  and  afterwards  ye  shall 
see  all  the  wonders  of  the  Abbey." 

I  would  have  excused  myself,  on  the  plea 
of  having  already  made  my  breakfast.  ' '  Hout, 
man,"  cried  he,  "  a  ride  in  the  morning  in  the 
keen  air  of  the  Scotch  hills  is  warrant  enough 
for  a  second  breakfast." 

I  was  accordingly  whirled  to  the  portal  of 
the  cottage,  and  in  a  few  moments  found  my 
self  seated  at  the  breakfast- table.  There  was 
no  one  present  but  the  family  :  which  consisted 
of  Mrs.  Scott ;  her  eldest  daughter  Sophia, 
then  a  fine  girl  about  seventeen ;  Miss  Ann 
Scott,  two  or  three  years  younger  ;  Walter,  a 
well-grown  stripling  ;  and  Charles,  a  lively  boy, 
eleven  or  twelve  years  of  age.  I  soon  felt  my 
self  quite  at  home,  and  my  heart  in  a  glow  with 
the  cordial  welcome  I  experienced.  I  had 
thought  to  make  a  mere  morning  visit,  but 
found  I  was  not  to  be  let  off  so  lightly.  * '  You 
must  not  think  our  neighborhood  is  to  be  read 


283 


in  a  morning,  like  a  newspaper,"  said  Scott. 
* '  It  takes  several  days  of  study  for  an  observant 
traveller  that  has  a  relish  for  auld- world  trum 
pery.  After  breakfast  you  shall  make  your 
visit  to  Melrose  Abbey  ;  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
accompany  you,  as  I  have  some  household 
affairs  to  attend  to,  but  I  will  put  you  in  charge 
of  my  son  Charles,  who  is  very  learned  in  all 
things  touching  the  old  ruin  and  the  neighbor 
hood  it  stands  in,  and  he  and  my  friend  Johnny 
Bower  will  tell  you  the  whole  truth  about  it, 
with  a  good  deal  more  that  you  are  not  called 
upon  to  believe — unless  you  be  a  true  and 
nothing-doubting  antiquary.  When  you  come 
back,  I  '11  take  you  out  on  a  ramble  about  the 
neighborhood.  To-morrow  we  will  take  a  look 
at  the  Yarrow,  and  the  next  day  we  will  drive 
over  to  Dryburgh  Abbey,  which  is  a  fine  old 
ruin  well  worth  seeing;  " — in  a  word,  before 
Scott  had  got  through  with  his  plan,  I  found 
myself  committed  for  a  visit  of  several  days, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  a  little  realm  of  romance 
was  suddenly  opened  before  me. 

After  breakfast  I  accordingly  set  off  for  the 
Abbey  with  my  little  friend  Charles,  whom  I 
found  a  most  sprightly  and  entertaining  com 
panion.  He  had  an  ample  stock  of  anecdote 
about  the  neighborhood,  which  he  had  learned 


284  Cragon 


from  his  father,  and  many  quaint  remarks  and 
sly  jokes,  evidently  derived  from  the  same 
source,  all  which  were  uttered  with  a  Scottish 
accent  and  a  mixture  of  Scottish  phraseology, 
that  gave  them  additional  flavor. 

On  our  way  to  the  Abbey  he  gave  me  some 
anecdotes  of  Johnny  Bower,  to  whom  his  father 
had  alluded  ;  he  was  sexton  of  the  parish  and 
custodian  of  the  ruin,  employed  to  keep  it  in 
order  and  show  it  to  strangers ; — a  worthy 
little  man,  not  without  ambition  in  his  humble 
sphere.  The  death  of  his  predecessor  had 
been  mentioned  in  the  newspapers,  so  that  his 
name  had  appeared  in  print  throughout  the 
land.  When  Johnny  succeeded  to  the  guar 
dianship  of  the  ruin,  he  stipulated  that,  on  his 
death,  his  name  should  receive  like  honorable 
blazon  ;  with  this  addition,  that  it  should  be 
from  the  pen  of  Scott.  The  latter  gravely 
pledged  himself  to  pay  this  tribute  to  his  mem 
ory,  and  Johnny  now  lived  in  the  proud  antici 
pation  of  a  poetic  immortality. 

I  found  Johnny  Bower  a  decent-looking  little 
old  man,  in  blue  coat  and  red  waistcoat.  He 
received  us  with  much  greeting,  and  seemed 
delighted  to  see  my  young  companion,  who 
was  full  of  merriment  and  waggery,  drawing 
out  his  peculiarities  for  my  amusement.  The 
old  man  was  one  of  the  most  authentic  and 


BbbotsforD  285 


particular  of  cicerones  ;  he  pointed  out  every 
thing  in  the  Abbey  that  had  been  described  by 
Scott  in  his  "  I^ay  of  the  L,ast  Minstrel  "  ;  and 
would  repeat,  with  broad  Scottish  accent,  the 
passage  which  celebrated  it. 

Thus,  in  passing  through  the  cloisters,  he 
made  me  remark  the  beautiful  carvings  of 
leaves  and  flowers  wrought  in  stone  with  the 
most  exquisite  delicacy,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  lapse  of  centuries,  retaining  their  sharpness 
as  if  fresh  from  the  chisel ;  rivalling,  as  Scott  has 
said,  the  real  objects  of  which  they  were  imita 
tions, — 

"  Nor  herb  nor  flowret  glistened  there 
But  was  carved  in  the  cloister  arches  as  fair." 

He  pointed  out  also  among  the  carved  work 
a  nun's  head  of  much  beauty,  which  he  said 
Scott  always  stopped  to  admire, — "  for  the 
shirra  had  a  wonderful  eye  for  all  sic  matters. ' ' 

I  would  observe,  that  Scott  seemed  to  derive 
more  consequence  in  the  neighborhood  from 
being  sheriff  of  the  county  than  from  being 
poet. 

In  the  interior  of  the  Abbey,  Johnny  Bower 
conducted  me  to  the  identical  stone  on  which 
Stout  William  of  Deloraine  and  the  Monk  took 
their  seat  on  that  memorable  night  when  the 
wizard's  book  was  to  be  rescued  from  the  grave. 


286  Crayon 


Nay,  Johnny  had  even  gone  beyond  Scott  in 
the  minuteness  of  his  antiquarian  research,  for 
he  had  discovered  the  very  tomb  of  the  wizard, 
the  position  of  which  had  been  left  in  doubt  by 
the  poet.  This  he  boasted  to  have  ascertained 
by  the  position  of  the  oriel  window,  and  the 
direction  in  which  the  moonbeams  fell  at  night, 
through  the  stained  glass,  casting  the  shadow 
to  the  red  cross  on  the  spot ;  as  had  all  been 
specified  in  the  poem.  "  I  pointed  out  the 
whole  to  the  shirra,"  said  he,  "  and  he  could 
na'  gainsay  but  it  was  varra  clear."  I  found 
afterwards,  that  Scott  used  to  amuse  himself 
with  the  simplicity  of  the  old  man,  and  his 
zeal  in  verifying  every  passage  of  the  poem,  as 
though  it  had  been  authentic  history,  and  that 
he  always  acquiesced  in  his  deductions.  I  sub 
join  the  description  of  the  wizard's  grave, 
which  called  forth  the  antiquarian  research  of 
Johnny  Bower. 

"  LO,  warrior !  now  the  cross  of  red 
Points  to  the  grave  of  the  mighty  dead  ; 
Slow  moved  the  monk  to  the  broad  flag-stone, 
Which  the  bloody  cross  was  traced  upon  : 
He  pointed  to  a  sacred  nook, 
An  iron  bar  the  warrior  took  ; 
And  the  monk  made   a  sign  with   his  withered 

hand, 
The  grave's  huge  portal  to  expand. 


Bbbotsfotf*  287 


"  It  was  by  dint  of  passing  strength 
That  lie  moved  the  massy  stone  at  length. 
I  would  you  had  been  there,  to  see 
How  the  light  broke  forth  so  gloriously, 
Streamed  upward  to  the  chancel  roof, 
And  through  the  galleries  far  aloof ! 

And,  issuing  from  the  tomb, 
Showed  the  monk's  cowl  and  visage  pale, 
Danced  on  the  dark  brown  warrior's  mail, 

And  kissed  his  waving  plume. 

"  Before  their  eyes  the  wizard  lay, 
As  if  he  had  not  been  dead  a  day. 
His  hoary  beard  in  silver  rolled, 
He  seemed  some  seventy  winters  old ; 
A  palmer's  amice  wrapped  him  round  ; 
With  a  wrought  Spanish  baldric  bound, 

Ivike  a  pilgrim  from  beyond  the  sea ; 
His  left  hand  held  his  book  of  might ; 
A  silver  cross  was  in  his  right : 

The  lamp  was  placed  beside  his  knee. " 

The  fictions  of  Scott  had  become  facts  with 
honest  Johnny  Bower.  From  constantly  living 
among  the  ruins  of  Melrose  Abbey,  and  point 
ing  out  the  scenes  of  the  poem,  the  *  *  Lay  of  the 
L,ast  Minstrel ' '  had,  in  a  manner,  become  inter 
woven  with  his  whole  existence,  and  I  doubt 
whether  he  did  not  now  and  then  mix  up  his 
own  identity  with  the  personages  of  some  of 
its  cantos. 

He  could  not  bear  that  any  other  production 
of  the  poet  should  be  preferred  to  the  ' '  L,ay  of 


288  dragon  /BMscellang 


the  IfQst  Minstrel."  "  Faith,"  said  he  to  me, 
"  it 's  just  e'en  as  gude  a  thing  as  Mr.  Scott 
has  written — an'  if  he  were  stannin'  there  I  'd 
tell  him  so— an'  then  he  'd  lauff." 

He  was  loud  in  his  praises  of  the  affability 
of  Scott.  "He  '11  come  here  sometimes," 
said  he,  "  with  great  folks  in  his  company,  an* 
the  first  I  know  of  it  is  his  voice  calling  out 
Johnny  ! — Johnny  Bower  ! — and  when  I  go 
out,  I  am  sure  to  be  greeted  with  a  joke  or  a 
pleasant  word.  He  '11  stand  and  crack  and 
lauff  wi'  me,  just  like  an  auld  wife — and  to 
think  that  of  a  man  that  has  such  an  awfu' 
knowledge  o'  history  ! ' ' 

One  of  the  ingenious  devices  on  which  the 
worthy  little  man  prided  himself,  was  to  place 
a  visitor  opposite  to  the  Abbey,  with  his  back 
to  it,  and  bid  him  bend  down  and  look  at  it 
between  his  legs.  This,  he  said,  gave  an 
entire  different  aspect  to  the  ruin.  Folks  ad 
mired  the  plan  amazingly,  but  as  to  the  "led- 
dies,"  they  were  dainty  on  the  matter,  and 
contented  themselves  with  looking  from  under 
their  arms. 

As  Johnny  Bower  piqued  himself  upon 
showing  everything  laid  down  in  the  poem, 
there  was  one  passage  that  perplexed  him 
sadly.  It  was  the  opening  of  one  of  the 
cantos : 


SbboteforD  289 


"  If  thou  wouldst  view  fair  Melrose  aright, 
Go  visit  it  by  the  pale  moonlight ; 
For  the  gay  beams  of  lightsome  day 
Gild  but  to  flout  the  ruins  gray,"  etc. 

In  consequence  of  this  admonition,  many  of 
the  most  devout  pilgrims  to  the  ruin  could  not 
be  contented  with  a  daylight  inspection,  and 
insisted  it  could  be  nothing,  unless  seen  by  the 
light  of  the  moon.  Now,  unfortunately,  the 
moon  shines  but  for  a  part  of  the  month  ;  and 
what  is  still  more  unfortunate,  is  very  apt  in 
Scotland  to  be  obscured  by  clouds  and  mists. 
Johnny  was  sorely  puzzled,  therefore,  how  to 
accommodate  his  poetry-struck  visitors  with 
this  indispensable  moonshine.  At  length,  in 
a  lucky  moment,  he  devised  a  substitute.  This 
was  a  great  double  tallow  candle,  stuck  upon 
the  end  of  a  pole,  with  which  he  could  conduct 
his  visitors  about  the  ruins  on  dark  nights,  so 
much  to  their  satisfaction  that,  at  length,  he 
began  to  think  it  even  preferable  to  the  moon 
itself.  "  It  does  na  light  up  a'  the  Abbey  at 
aince,  to  be  sure,"  he  would  say,  "but  then 
you  can  shift  it  about  and  show  the  auld  ruin 
bit  by  bit,  whiles  the  moon  only  shines  on  one 
side." 

Honest  Johnny  Bower  !  so  many  years  have 
elapsed  since  the  time  I  treat  of,  that  it  is  more 
than  probable  his  simple  head  lies  beneath  the 

VOL.  I.— 19 


290  dragon 


walls  of  his  favorite  Abbey.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
his  humble  ambition  has  been  gratified,  and 
his  name  recorded  by  the  pen  of  the  man  he  so 
loved  and  honored. 

After  my  return  from  Melrose  Abbey,  Scott 
proposed  a  ramble  to  show  me  something  of 
the  surrounding  country.  As  we  sallied  forth, 
every  dog  in  the  establishment  turned  out  to 
attend  us.  There  was  the  old  stag  hound, 
Maida,  that  I  have  already  mentioned,  a  noble 
animal,  and  a  great  favorite  of  Scott's  ;  and 
Hamlet,  the  black  greyhound,  a  wild  thought 
less  youngster,  not  yet  arrived  to  the  years  of 
discretion ;  and  Finette,  a  beautiful  setter, 
with  soft  silken  hair,  long  pendent  ears,  and 
a  mild  eye,  the  parlor  favorite.  When  in  front 
of  the  house,  we  were  joined  by  a  superan 
nuated  greyhound,  who  came  from  the  kitchen 
wagging  his  tail,  and  was  cheered  by  Scott 
as  an  old  friend  and  comrade. 

In  our  walks,  Scott  would  frequently  pause 
in  conversation  to  notice  his  dogs  and  speak 
to  them,  as  if  rational  companions  ;  and  indeed 
there  appears  to  be  a  vast  deal  of  rationality 
in  these  faithful  attendants  on  man,  derived 
from  their  close  intimacy  with  him.  Maida 
deported  himself  with  a  gravity  becoming  his 
age  and  size,  and  seemed  to  consider  himself 


Bbbotsforfc  291 


called  upon  to  preserve  a  great  degree  of 
dignity  and  decorum  in  our  society.  As  he 
jogged  along  a  little  distance  ahead  of  us,  the 
young  dogs  would  gambol  about  him,  leap  on 
his  neck,  worry  at  his  ears,  and  endeavor  to 
tease  him  into  a  frolic.  The  old  dog  would 
keep  on  for  a  long  time  with  imperturable 
solemnity,  now  and  then  seeming  to  rebuke 
the  wantonness  of  his  young  companions. 
At  length  he  would  make  a  sudden  turn,  seize 
one  of  them,  and  tumble  him  in  the  dust ; 
then  giving  a  glance  at  us,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  You  see,  gentlemen,  I  can't  help  giving  way 
to  this  nonsense,"  would  resume  his  gravity 
and  jog  on  as  before. 

Scott  amused  himself  with  these  peculiar 
ities.  "I  make  no  doubt,"  said  he,  "when 
Maida  is  alone  with  these  young  dogs,  he 
throws  gravity  aside,  and  plays  the  boy  as 
much  as  any  of  them  ;  but  he  is  ashamed  to 
do  so  in  our  company,  and  seems  to  say,  '  Ha ' 
done  with  your  nonsense,  youngsters  ;  what 
will  the  laird  and  that  other  gentleman  think, 
of  me  if  I  give  way  to  such  foolery  ? ' ' 

Maida  reminded  him,  he  said,  of  a  scene  on 
board  an  armed  yacht  in  which  he  made  an 
excursion  with  his  friend  Adam  Ferguson. 
They  had  taken  much  notice  of  the  boatswain, 
who  was  a  fine  sturdy  seaman,  and  evidently 


dragon 


felt  flattered  by  their  attention.  On  one  oc 
casion  the  crew  were  "  piped  to  fun,"  and  the 
sailors  were  dancing  and  cutting  all  kinds  of 
capers  to  the  music  of  the  ship's  band.  The 
boatswain  looked  on  with  a  wistful  eye,  as  if 
he  would  like  to  join  in  ;  but  a  glance  at  Scott 
and  Ferguson  showed  that  there  was  a  struggle 
with  his  dignity,  fearing  to  lessen  himself  in 
their  eyes.  At  length  one  of  his  messmates 
came  up,  and,  seizing  him  by  the  arm,  chal 
lenged  him  to  a  jig.  The  boatswain,  continued 
Scott,  after  a  little  hesitation  complied,  made 
an  awkward  gambol  or  two,  like  our  friend 
Maida,  but  soon  gave  it  up.  '  '  It  '  s  of  no  use,  '  ' 
said  he,  jerking  up  his  waistband  and  giving 
a  side-glance  at  us,  "one  can't  dance  nouther 
always." 

Scott  amused  himself  with  the  peculiarities 
of  another  of  his  dogs,  a  little  shamefaced 
terrier,  with  large  glassy  eyes,  one  of  the 
most  sensitive  little  bodies  to  insult  and  indig 
nity  in  the  world.  If  ever  he  whipped  him, 
he  said,  the  little  fellow  would  sneak  off  and 
hide  himself  from  the  light  of  day,  in  a  lumber- 
garret,  whence  there  was  no  drawing  him  forth 
but  by  the  sound  of  the  chopping-knife,  as  if 
chopping  up  his  victuals,  when  he  would  steal 
forth  with  humble  and  downcast  look,  butwould 
skulk  away  again  if  any  one  regarded  him. 


Bbbotsforfc  293 


While  we  were  discussing  the  humors  and 
peculiarities  of  our  canine  companions,  some 
object  provoked  their  spleen,  and  produced  a 
sharp  and  petulant  barking  from  the  smaller 
fry,  but  it  was  some  time  before  Maida  was 
sufficiently  aroused  to  ramp  forward  two  or 
three  bounds  and  join  in  the  chorus,  with  a 
deep-mouthed  bow-wow ! 

It  was  but  a  transient  outbreak,  and  he  re 
turned  instantly,  wagging  his  tail,  and  looking 
up  dubiously  in  his  master's  face;  uncertain 
whether  he  would  censure  or  applaud. 

"Aye,  aye,  old  boy!"  cried  Scott,  "you 
have  done  wonders.  You  have  shaken  the 
Kildon  hills  with  your  roaring  ;  you  may  now 
lay  by  your  artillery  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 
Maida  is  like  the  great  gun  at  Constanti 
nople,  ' '  continued  he ;  * '  it  takes  so  long  to 
get  it  ready,  that  the  small  guns  can  fire  off 
a  dozen  times  first,  but  when  it  does  go  off  it 
plays  the  very  d — 1." 

These  simple  anecdotes  may  serve  to  show 
the  delightful  play  of  Scott's  humors  and  feel 
ings  in  private  life.  His  domestic  animals 
were  his  friends  ;  everything  about  him  seemed 
to  rejoice  in  the  light  of  his  countenance  :  the 
face  of  the  humblest  dependant  brightened  at 
his  approach,  as  if  he  anticipated  a  cordial 
and  cheering  word.  I  had  occasion  to  observe 


294  dragon  d&tecellang 


this  particularly  in  a  visit  which  we  paid  to  a 
quarry,  whence  several  men  were  cutting  stone 
for  the  new  edifice ;  who  all  paused  from  their 
labor  to  have  a  pleasant  ' '  crack  wi '  the  laird." 
One  of  them  was  a  burgess  of  Selkirk,  with 
whom  Scott  had  some  joke  about  the  old 
song,— 

"Up  with  the  Souters  o'  Selkirk, 
And  down  with  the  Karl  of  Home." 

Another  was  precentor  at  the  Kirk,  and,  beside 
leading  the  psalmody  on  Sunday,  taught  the 
lads  and  lasses  of  the  neighborhood  dancing 
on  week-days,  in  the  wintertime,  when  out-of- 
door  labor  was  scarce. 

Among  the  rest  was  a  tall,  straight  old  fel 
low,  with  a  healthful  complexion  and  silver 
hair,  and  a  small  round-crowned  white  hat. 
He  had  been  about  to  shoulder  a  hod,  but 
paused,  and  stood  looking  at  Scott,  with  a 
slight  sparkling  of  his  blue  eye,  as  if  waiting 
his  turn  ;  for  the  old  fellow  knew  himself  to 
be  a  favorite. 

Scott  accosted  him  in  an  affable  tone,  and 
asked  him  for  a  pinch  of  snuff.  The  old  man 
drew  forth  a  horn  snuff-box.  "Hoot,  man," 
said  Scott,  "not  that  old  mull:  where 's  the 
bonnie  French  one  that  I  brought  you  from 


Bbbotsfotfc  295 


Paris?"— "Troth,  your  honor,"  replied  the 
old  fellow,  "  sic  a  mull  as  that  is  nae  for  week 
days." 

On  leaving  the  quarry,  Scott  informed  me 
that  when  absent  at  Paris,  he  had  purchased 
several  trifling  articles  as  presents  for  his  de 
pendants,  and  among  others  the  gay  snuff-box 
in  question,  which  was  so  carefully  reserved 
for  Sundays  by  the  veteran.  "It  was  not  so 
much  the  value  of  the  gifts,"  said  he,  "  that 
pleased  them,  as  the  idea  that  the  laird  should 
think  of  them  when  so  far  away." 

The  old  man  in  question,  I  found,  was  a 
great  favorite  with  Scott.  If  I  recollect  right, 
he  had  been  a  soldier  in  early  life,  and  his 
straight,  erect  person,  his  ruddy  yet  rugged 
countenance,  his  gray  hair,  and  an  arch  gleam 
in  his  blue  eye,  reminded  me  of  the  description 
of  Bdie  Ochiltree.  I  find  that  the  old  fellow 
has  since  been  introduced  by  Wilkie,  in  his 
picture  of  the  Scott  family. 

We  rambled  on  among  scenes  which  had  been 
familiar  in  Scottish  song,  and  rendered  classic 
by  the  pastoral  muse,  long  before  Scott  had 
thrown  the  rich  mantle  of  his  poetry  over  them. 
What  a  thrill  of  pleasure  did  I  feel  when  first 
I  saw  the  broom-covered  tops  of  the  Cowden 
Knowes,  peeping  above  the  gray  hills  of  the 


296  dragon 


Tweed ;  and  what  touching  associations  were 
called  up  by  the  sight  of  Kttrick  Vale,  Galla 
Water,  and  the  Braes  of  Yarrow  !  Kvery  turn 
brought  to  mind  some  household  air — some 
almost  forgotten  song  of  the  nursery,  by  which 
I  had  been  lulled  to  sleep  in  my  childhood  ; 
and  with  them  the  looks  and  voices  of  those 
who  had  sung  them ;  and  who  were  now  no 
more.  It  is  these  melodies,  chanted  in  our 
ears  in  the  days  of  infancy,  and  connected  with 
the  memory  of  those  we  have  loved,  and  who 
have  passed  away,  that  clothe  Scottish  land 
scape  with  such  tender  associations.  The 
Scottish  songs,  in  general,  have  something 
intrinsically  melancholy  in  them ;  owing,  in 
probability,  to  the  pastoral  and  lonely  life  of 
those  who  composed  them ;  who  were  often 
mere  shepherds,  tending  their  flocks  in  the 
solitary  glens,  or  folding  them  among  the  naked 
hills.  Many  of  these  rustic  bards  have  passed 
away,  without  leaving  a  name  behind  them  ; 
nothing  remains  of  them  but  their  sweet  and 
touching  songs,  which  live,  like  echoes,  about 
the  places  they  once  inhabited.  Most  of  these 
simple  effusions  of  pastoral  poets  are  linked 
with  some  favorite  haunt  of  the  poet ;  and  in 
this  way,  not  a  mountain  or  valley,  a  town  or 
tower,  green  shaw  or  running  stream,  in  Scot 
land,  but  has  some  popular  air  connected 


Bbfeotsforfc  297 


with  it,  that  makes  its  very  name  a  key 
note  to  a  whole  train  of  delicious  fancies  and 
feelings. 

I^et  me  step  forward  in  time,  and  mention 
how  sensible  I  was  to  the  power  of  these  simple 
airs,  in  a  visit  which  I  made  to  Ayr,  the  birth 
place  of  Robert  Burns.  I  passed  a  whole 
morning  about  ' '  the  banks  and  braes  of  bonnie 
Doon, ' '  with  his  tender  little  love- verses  run 
ning  in  my  head.  I  found  a  poor  Scotch  car 
penter  at  work  among  the  ruins  of  Kirk 
Alloway,  which  was  to  be  converted  into  a 
school-house.  Finding  the  purpose  of  my  visit, 
he  left  his  work,  sat  down  with  me  on  a  grassy 
grave,  close  by  where  Burns'  father  was  buried, 
and  talked  of  the  poet,  whom  he  had  known 
personally.  He  said  his  songs  were  familiar 
to  the  poorest  and  most  illiterate  of  the  country 
folk,  "  and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  country  had 
grown  more  beautiful  since  Burns  had  written 
his  bonnie  little  songs  about  it" 

I  found  Scott  was  quite  an  enthusiast  on  the 
subject  of  the  popular  songs  of  his  country, 
and  he  seemed  gratified  to  find  me  so  alive  to 
them.  Their  effect  in  calling  up  in  my  mind 
the  recollections  of  early  times  and  scenes  in 
which  I  had  first  heard  them,  reminded  him, 
he  said,  of  the  lines  of  his  poor  friend,  I^eyden, 
to  the  Scottish  Muse  : 


298  Crayon 


'  In  youth's  first  morn,  alert  and  gay, 
Ere  rolling  years  had  passed  away, 

Remembered  like  a  morning  dream, 
I  heard  the  dulcet  measures  float, 
In  many  a  liquid  winding  note, 

Along  the  bank  of  Teviot's  stream. 

"  Sweet  sounds  !  that  oft  have  soothed  to  rest 
The  sorrows  of  my  guileless  breast, 

And  charmed  away  mine  infant  tears  ; 
Fond  memory  shall  your  strains  repeat, 
Ivike  distant  echoes,  doubly  sweet, 

That  on  the  wild  the  traveller  hears." 

Scott  went  on  to  expatiate  on  the  popular 
songs  of  Scotland.  *  *  They  are  a  part  of  our 
national  inheritance,"  said  he,  "and  some 
thing  that  we  may  truly  call  our  own.  They 
have  no  foreign  taint ;  they  have  the  pure 
breath  of  the  heather  and  the  mountain 
breeze.  All  the  genuine  legitimate  races 
that  have  descended  from  the  ancient  Britons, 
such  as  the  Scotch,  the  Welsh,  and  the  Irish, 
have  national  airs.  The  English  have  none, 
because  they  are  not  natives  of  the  soil,  or,  at 
least,  are  mongrels.  Their  music  is  all  made 
up  of  foreign  scraps,  like  a  harlequin  jacket, 
or  a  piece  of  mosaic.  Even  in  Scotland  we 
have  comparatively  few  national  songs  in  the 
eastern  part,  where  we  have  had  most  influx 
of  strangers.  A  real  old  Scottish  song  is  a 


Sbbotstorfc  299 


cairn  gorm — a  gem  of  our  own  mountains ;  or, 
rather,  it  is  a  precious  relic  of  old  times,  that 
bears  the  national  character  stamped  upon  it, — 
like  a  cameo,  that  shows  what  the  national 
visage  was  in  former  days,  before  the  breed 
was  crossed." 

While  Scott  was  thus  discoursing,  we  were 
passing  up  a  narrow  glen,  with  the  dogs  beat 
ing  about,  to  right  and  left,  when  suddenly  a 
black  cock  burst  upon  the  wing. 

"  Aha  !  "  cried  Scott,  "  there  will  be  a  good 
shot  for  master  Walter ;  we  must  send  him 
this  way  with  his  gun,  when  we  go  home. 
Walter  's  the  family  sportsman  now,  and  keeps 
us  in  game.  I  have  pretty  nigh  resigned  my 
gun  to  him  ;  for  I  find  I  cannot  trudge  about 
as  briskly  as  formerly." 

Our  ramble  took  us  on  the  hills  commanding 
an  extensive  prospect.  "Now,"  said  Scott, 
* '  I  have  brought  you,  like  the  pilgrim  in  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  to  the  top  of  the  Delectable 
Mountains,  that  I  may  show  you  all  the  goodly 
regions  hereabouts.  Yonder  is  L,ammermuir, 
and  Smalholme  ;  and  there  }TOU  have  Galla- 
shiels,  and  Torwoodlie,  and  Gallawater ;  and 
in  that  direction  you  see  Teviotdale,  and  the 
Braes  of  Yarrow  ;  and  Bttrick  stream,  winding 
along,  like  a  silver  thread,  to  throw  itself  into 
the  Tweed." 


300  Crayon  dfctecellang 


He  went  on  thus  to  call  over  names  cele 
brated  in  Scottish  song,  and  most  of  which 
had  recently  received  a  romantic  interest  from 
his  own  pen.  In  fact,  I  saw  a  great  part  of 
the  border  country  spread  out  before  me,  and 
could  trace  the  scenes  of  those  poems  and  ro 
mances  which  had,  in  a  manner,  bewitched 
the  world.  I  gazed  about  me  for  a  time  with 
mute  surprise,  I  may  almost  say  with  disap 
pointment.  I  beheld  a  mere  succession  of 
gray  waving  hills,  line  beyond  line,  as  far  as 
my  eye  could  reach  ;  monotonous  in  their  as 
pect,  and  so  destitute  of  trees  that  one  could 
almost  see  a  stout  fly  walking  along  their  pro 
file  ;  and  the  far-famed  Tweed  appeared  a 
naked  stream,  flowing  between  bare  hills, 
without  a  tree  or  thicket  on  its  banks ;  and 
yet,  such  had  been  the  magic  web  of  poetry 
and  romance  thrown  over  the  whole,  that  it 
had  a  greater  charm  for  me  than  the  richest 
scenery  I  beheld  in  England. 

I  could  not  help  giving  utterance  to  my 
thoughts.  Scott  hummed  for  a  moment  to 
himself,  and  looked  grave  ;  he  had  no  idea  of 
having  his  muse  complimented  at  the  expense 
of  his  native  hills.  "It  may  be  partiality,'* 
said  he,  at  length,  <c  but  to  my  eye  these  gray 
hills  and  all  this  wild  border  country  have 
beauties  peculiar  to  themselves.  I  like  the 


BbbotsforD  301 


very  nakedness  of  the  land  ;  it  has  something 
bold,  and  stern,  and  solitary  about  it.  When 
I  have  been  for  some  time  in  the  rich  scenery 
about  Edinburgh,  which  is  like  ornamented 
garden-land,  I  begin  to  wish  myself  back  again 
among  my  own  honest  gray  hills ;  and  if  I 
did  not  see  the  heather  at  least  once  a  year, 
1 'think  1 'should die  /" 

The  last  words  were  said  with  an  honest 
warmth,  accompanied  with  a  thump  on  the 
ground  with  his  staff,  by  way  of  emphasis, 
that  showed  his  heart  was  in  his  speech.  He 
vindicated  the  Tweed,  too,  as  a  beautiful  stream 
in  itself,  and  observed  that  he  did  not  dislike 
it  for  being  bare  of  trees,  probably  from  having 
been  much  of  an  angler  in  his  time,  and  an 
angler  does  not  like  to  have  a  stream  over 
hung  by  trees,  which  embarrass  him  in  the 
exercise  of  his  rod  and  line. 

I  took  occasion  to  plead,  in  like  manner, 
the  associations  of  early  life,  for  my  disap 
pointment  in  respect  to  the  surrounding  scenery. 
I  had  been  so  accustomed  to  hills  crowned 
with  forests,  and  streams  breaking  their  way 
through  a  wilderness  of  trees,  that  all  my  ideas 
of  romantic  landscape  were  apt  to  be  well 
wooded. 

"Aye,  and  that's  the  great  charm  of  your 
country,"  cried  Scott.  "You  love  the  forest 


302  dragon 


as  I  do  the  heather, — but  I  would  not  have 
you  think  I  do  not  feel  the  glory  of  a  great 
woodland  prospect.  There  is  nothing  I  should 
like  more  than  to  be  in  the  midst  of  one  of 
your  grand,  wild,  original  forests  :  with  the 
idea  of  hundreds  of  miles  of  untrodden  forest 
around  me.  I  once  saw,  at  L,eith,  an  immense 
stick  of  timber,  just  landed  from  America.  It 
must  have  been  an  enormous  tree  when  it 
stood  on  its  native  soil,  at  its  full  height,  and 
with  all  its  branches.  I  gazed  at  it  with  ad 
miration  ;  it  seemed  like  one  of  the  gigantic 
obelisks  which  are  now  and  then  brought  from 
Egypt,  to  shame  the  pigmy  monuments  of 
Europe;  and,  in  fact,  these  vast  aboriginal 
trees,  that  have  sheltered  the  Indians  before 
the  intrusion  of  the  white  men,  are  the  monu 
ments  and  antiquities  of  your  country. ' ' 

The  conversation  here  turned  upon  Camp 
bell's  poem  of  "Gertrude  of  Wyoming,"  as 
illustrative  of  the  poetic  materials  furnished 
by  American  scenery.  Scott  spoke  of  it  in 
that  liberal  style  in  which  I  always  found  him 
to  speak  of  the  writings  of  his  contemporaries. 
He  cited  several  passages  of  it  with  great 
delight.  "  What  a  pity  it  is,"  said  he,  "  that 
Campbell  does  not  write  more  and  oftener, 
and  give  full  sweep  to  his  genius.  He  has 
wings  that  would  bear  him  co  the  skies ;  and 


BbbotsforD  303 


he  does  now  and  then  spread  them  grandly, 
but  folds  them  up  again  and  resumes  his  perch, 
as  if  he  was  afraid  to  launch  away.  He  don't 
know  or  won't  trust  his  own  strength.  Kven 
when  he  has  done  a  thing  well,  he  has  often 
misgivings  about  it.  He  left  out  several  fine 
passages  of  his  'I^ochiel,'  but  I  got  him  to 
restore  some  of  them."  Here  Scott  repeated 
several  passages  in  a  magnificent  style. 
' '  What  a  grand  idea  is  that,"  said  he,  "  about 
prophetic  boding,  or,  in  common  parlance, 
second  sight, — 

*  Coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before.' 

It  is  a  noble  thought,  and  nobly  expressed. 
And  there 's  that  glorious  little  poem,  too,  of 
'  Hohenlinden '  ;  after  he  had  written  it,  he 
did  not  seem  to  think  much  of  it,  but  con 
sidered  some  of  it  '  d — d  drum  and  trumpet 
lines.'  I  got  him  to  recite  it  to  me,  and  I 
believe  that  the  delight  I  felt  and  expressed 
had  an  effect  in  inducing  him  to  print  it.  The 
fact  is,"  added  he/4  Campbell  is,  in  a  manner, 
a  bugbear  to  himself.  The  brightness  of  his 
early  success  is  a  detriment  to  all  his  further 
efforts.  He  is  afraid  of  the  shadow  that  his 
own  fame  casts  before  him. ' ' 

While  we  were  thus  chatting,  we  heard  the 
report  of  a  gun  among  the  hills.     "That's 


304  dragon 


Walter,  I  think,"  said  Scott;  "he  has  fin 
ished  his  morning  studies,  and  is  out  with  his 
gun.  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  he  had  met 
with  the  black  cock ;  if  so,  we  shall  have  an 
addition  to  our  larder,  for  Walter  is  a  pretty 
sure  shot." 

I  inquired  into  the  nature  of  Walter's 
studies.  "Faith,"  said  Scott,  "I  can't  say 
much  on  that  head.  I  am  not  over-bent  upon 
making  prodigies  of  any  of  my  children.  As 
to  Walter,  I  taught  him,  while  a  boy,  to  ride, 
and  shoot,  and  speak  the  truth ;  as  to  the 
other  parts  of  his  education,  I  leave  them  to  a 
very  worthy  young  man,  the  son  of  one  of  our 
clergymen,  who  instructs  all  my  children. ' ' 

I  afterwards  became  acquainted  with  the 
young  man  in  question,  George  Thompson, 
son  of  the  minister  of  Melrose,  and  found  him 
possessed  of  much  learning,  intelligence,  and 
modest  worth.  He  used  to  come  every  day 
from  his  father's  residence  at  Melrose,  to  super 
intend  the  studies  of  the  young  folks,  and  oc 
casionally  took  his  meals  at  Abbotsford,  where 
he  was  highly  esteemed.  Nature  had  cut  him 
out,  Scott  used  to  say,  for  a  stalwart  soldier  ; 
for  he  was  tall,  vigorous,  active,  and  fond  of 
athletic  exercises ;  but  accident  had  marred 
her  work,  the  loss  of  a  limb  in  boyhood  having 
reduced  him  to  a  wooden  leg.  He  was  brought 


Bbbotsforfc  305 


up,  therefore,  for  the  church,  whence  he  was 
occasionally  called  the  Dominie,  and  is  sup 
posed,  by  his  mixture  of  learning,  simplicity, 
and  amiable  eccentricity,  to  have  furnished 
many  traits  for  the  character  of  Dominie  Samp 
son.  I  believe  he  often  acted  as  Scott's  aman 
uensis,  when  composing  his  novels.  With 
him  the  young  people  were  occupied,  in  gen 
eral,  during  the  early  part  of  the  day,  after 
which  they  took  all  kinds  of  healthful  recrea 
tions  in  the  open  air  ;  for  Scott  was  as  solici 
tous  to  strengthen  their  bodies  as  their  minds. 
We  had  not  walked  much  further  before  we 
saw  the  two  Miss  Scotts  advancing  along  the 
hill-side  to  meet  us.  The  morning  studies 
being  over,  they  had  set  off  to  take  a  ramble 
on  the  hills,  and  gather  heather-blossoms  with 
which  to  decorate  their  hair  for  dinner.  As 
they  came  bounding  lightly  like  young  fawns, 
and  their  dresses  fluttering  in  the  pure  summer 
breeze,  I  was  reminded  of  Scott's  own  descrip 
tion  of  his  children  in  his  introduction  to  one 
of  the  cantos  of  "  Marmion," — 

"  My  imps,  though  hardy,  bold,  and  wild, 
As  best  befits  the  mountain-child, 
Their  summer  gambols  tell  and  mourn, 
And  anxious  ask  will  spring  return, 
And  birds  and  lambs  again  be  gay, 
And  blossoms  clothe  the  hawthorn  spray  ? 

VOL.    I.— 20 


306  Crayon 


"  Yes,  prattlers,  yes,  the  daisy's  flower 
Again  shall  paint  your  summer  bower  ; 
Again  the  hawthorn  shall  supply 
The  garlands  you  delight  to  tie  ; 
The  lambs  upon  the  lea  shall  bound, 
The  wild  birds  carol  to  the  round, 
And  while  you  frolic  light  as  they, 
Too  short  shall  seem  the  summer  day." 

As  they  approached,  the  dogs  all  sprang  for 
ward  and  gambolled  around  them.  They 
played  with  them  for  a  time,  and  then  joined 
us  with  countenances  full  of  health  and  glee. 
Sophia,  the  eldest,  was  the  most  lively  and 
joyous,  having  much  of  her  father's  varied 
spirit  in  conversation,  and  seeming  to  catch 
excitement  from  his  words  and  looks.  Ann 
was  of  quieter  mood,  rather  silent,  owing,  in 
some  measure,  no  doubt,  to  her  being  some 
years  younger. 

At  dinner,  Scott  had  laid  by  his  half  rustic 
dress,  and  appeared  clad  in  black.  The  girls, 
too,  in  completing  their  toilet,  had  twisted  in 
their  hair  the  sprigs  of  purple  heather  which 
they  had  gathered  on  the  hill-side,  and  looked 
all  fresh  and  blooming  from  their  breezy  walk. 

There  was  no  guest  at  dinner  but  myself. 
Around  the  table  were  two  or  three  dogs  in  at 
tendance.  Maida,  the  old  staghound,  took  his 


Bbbotstorfc  307 


seat  at  Scott's  elbow,  looking  up  wistfully  in 
his  master's  eye,  while  Blnette,  the  pet  spaniel, 
placed  herself  near  Mrs.  Scott,  by  whom,  I 
soon  perceived,  she  was  completely  spoiled. 

The  conversation  happening  to  turn  on  the 
merits  of  his  dogs,  Scott  spoke  with  great  feel 
ing  and  affection  of  his  favorite,  Camp,  who  is 
depicted  by  his  side  in  the  earlier  engravings  of 
him.  He  talked  of  him  as  of  a  real  friend 
whom  he  had  lost ;  and  Sophia  Scott,  looking 
up  archly  in  his  face,  observed  that  papa  shed 
a  few  tears  when  poor  Camp  died.  I  may 
here  mention  another  testimonial  of  Scott's 
fondness  for  his  dogs,  and  his  humorous  mode 
of  showing  it,  which  I  subsequently  met  with. 
Rambling  with  him  one  morning  about  the 
grounds  adjacent  to  the  house,  I  observed  a 
small  antique  monument,  on  which  was  in 
scribed,  in  Gothic  characters, — 

"  Cy  git  le  preux  Percy." 
(Here  lies  the  brave  Percy.) 

I  paused,  supposing  it  to  be  the  tomb  of  some 
stark  warrior  of  the  olden  time,  but  Scott  drew 
me  on.  ' '  Pooh  ! ' '  cried  he,  *  *  it 's  nothing  but 
one  of  the  monuments  of  my  nonsense,  of 
which  you'll  find  enough  hereabouts."  I 
learnt  afterwards  that  it  was  the  grave  of  a 
favorite  greyhound. 


3o8  Crayon  flM0cellan£ 


Among  the  other  important  and  privileged 
members  of  the  household  who  figured  in  at 
tendance  at  the  dinner,  was  a  large  gray  cat, 
who,  I  observed,  was  regaled  from  time  to  time 
with  titbits  from  the  table.  This  sage  grimal 
kin  was  a  favorite  of  both  master  and  mistress, 
and  slept  at  night  in  their  room ;  and  Sc^tt 
laughingly  observed,  that  one  of  the  least  wise 
parts  of  their  establishment  was,  that  the 
window  was  left  open  at  night  for  puss  to  go  in 
and  out.  The  cat  assumed  a  kind  of  ascen 
dency  among  the  quadrupeds — sitting  in  state 
in  Scott's  arm-chair,  and  occasionally  station 
ing  himself  on  a  chair  beside  the  door,  as  if  to 
review  his  subjects  as  they  passed,  giving  each 
dog  a  cuff  beside  the  ears  as  he  went  by.  This 
clapper-clawing  was  always  taken  in  good 
part ;  it  appeared  to  be,  in  fact,  a  mere  act  of 
sovereignty  on  the  part  of  grimalkin,  to  remind 
the  others  of  their  vassalage  ;  which  they  ac 
knowledged  by  the  most  perfect  acquiescence. 
A  general  harmony  prevailed  between  sover 
eign  and  subjects,  and  they  would  all  sleep 
together  in  the  sunshine. 

Scott  was  full  of  anecdote  and  conversation 
during  dinner.  He  made  some  admirable  re 
marks  upon  the  Scottish  character,  and  spoke 
strongly  in  praise  of  the  quiet,  orderly,  honest 
conduct  of  his  neighbors,  which  one  would 


Bbbotsforfc  309 


hardly  expect,  said  lie,  from  the  descendants 
of  moss-troopers  and  borderers,  in  a  neighbor 
hood  famed  in  old  times  for  brawl  and  feud, 
and  violence  of  all  kinds.  He  said  he  had,  in 
his  official  capacity  of  sheriff,  administered  the 
laws  for  a  number  of  years,  during  which  there 
had  been  very  few  trials.  The  old  feuds  and 
local  interests,  and  rivalries,  and  animosities  of 
the  Scotch,  however,  still  slept,  he  said,  in  their 
ashes,  and  might  easily  be  roused.  Their  he 
reditary  feeling  for  names  was  still  great.  It 
was  not  always  safe  to  have  even  the  game  of 
foot-ball  between  villages,  the  old  clannish 
spirit  was  too  apt  to  break  out.  The  Scotch, 
he  said,  were  more  revengeful  than  the  Eng 
lish  ;  they  carried  their  resentments  longer, 
and  would  sometimes  lay  them  by  for  years, 
but  would  be  sure  to  gratify  them  in  the 
end. 

The  ancient  jealousy  between  the  Highland 
ers  and  the  Lowlanders  still  continued  to  a  cer 
tain  degree,  the  former  looking  upon  the  latter 
as  an  inferior  race,  less  brave  and  hardy,  but 
at  the  same  time  suspecting  them  of  a  disposi 
tion  to  take  airs  upon  themselves  under  the  idea 
of  superior  refinement.  This  made  them  techy 
and  ticklish  company  for  a  stranger  on  his  first 
coming  among  them  ;  ruffling  up  and  putting 
themselves  upon  their  mettle  on  the  slightest 


3io  Crayon 


occasion,  so  that  he  had  in  a  manner  to 
quarrel  and  fight  his  way  into  their  good 
graces. 

He  instanced  a  case  in  point  in  a  brother  of 
Mungo  Park,  who  went  to  take  up  his  resi 
dence  in  a  wild  neighborhood  of  the  High 
lands.  He  soon  found  himself  considered  as 
an  intruder,  and  that  there  was  a  disposition 
among  these  cocks  of  the  hills  to  fix  a  quarrel 
on  him,  trusting  that,  being  a  lyowlander,  he 
would  show  the  white  feather. 

For  a  time  he  bore  their  flings  and  taunts 
with  great  coolness,  until  one,  presuming  on 
his  forbearance,  drew  forth  a  dirk,  and  holding 
it  before  him,  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  seen  a 
weapon  like  that  in  his  part  of  the  country. 
Park,  who  was  a  Hercules  in  frame,  seized  the 
dirk,  and,  with  one  blow,  drove  it  through  an 
oaken  table.  "Yes,"  replied  he,  "and  tell 
your  friends  that  a  man  from  the  Rowlands 
drove  it  where  the  devil  himself  cannot  draw 
it  out  again. ' '  All  persons  were  delighted  with 
the  feat,  and  the  words  that  accompanied  it. 
They  drank  with  Park  to  a  better  acquaintance, 
and  were  stanch  friends  ever  afterwards. 

After  dinner  we  adjourned  to  the  drawing- 
room,  which  served  also  for  study  and  library. 
Against  the  wall  on  one  side  was  a  long  writ- 


BbfcotsforD  311 


ing-table,  with  drawers ;  surmounted  by  a 
small  cabinet  of  polished  wood,  with  folding 
doors  richly  studded  with  brass  ornaments, 
within  which  Scott  kept  his  most  valuable 
papers.  Above  the  cabinet,  in  a  kind  of  niche, 
was  a  complete  corselet  of  glittering  steel,  with 
a  closed  helmet,  and  flanked  by  gauntlets  and 
battle-axes.  Around  were  hung  trophies  and 
relics  of  various  kinds  :  a  cimeter  of  Tippoo 
Saib ;  a  Highland  broadsword  from  Flodden- 
field ;  a  pair  of  Rippon  spurs  from  Bannock- 
burn,  and  above  all,  a  gun  which  had  be 
longed  to  Rob  Roy,  and  bore  his  initials,  R. 
M.  G., — an  object  of  peculiar  interest  to  me  at 
the  time,  as  it  was  understood  Scott  was  actu 
ally  engaged  in  printing  a  novel  founded  on  the 
story  of  that  famous  outlaw. 

On  each  side  of  the  cabinet  were  bookcases, 
well  stored  with  works  of  romantic  fiction  in 
various  languages,  many  of  them  rare  and  an 
tiquated.  This,  however,  was  merely  his  cot 
tage  library,  the  principal  part  of  his  books 
being  at  Edinburgh. 

From  this  little  cabinet  of  curiosities  Scott 
drew  forth  a  manuscript  picked  up  on  the  field 
of  Waterloo,  containing  copies  of  several  songs 
popular  at  the  time  in  France.  The  paper  was 
dabbled  with  blood — "  the  very  life-blood,  very 
possibly,"  said  Scott,  "of  some  gay  young 


312  Crayon  /fotecellan£ 


officer,  who  had  cherished  these  songs  as  a 
keepsake  from  some  lady-love  in  Paris." 

He  adverted  in  a  mellow  and  delightful  man 
ner  to  the  little  half  gay,  half  melancholy  cam 
paigning  song,  said  to  have  been  composed  by 
General  Wolfe,  and  sung  by  him  at  the  mess- 
table,  on  the  eve  of  the  storming  of  Quebec, 
in  which  he  fell  so  gloriously, 

"  Why,  soldiers,  why, 
Should  we  be  melancholy,  boys  ? 
Why,  soldiers,  why, 
Whose  business  't  is  to  die  ! 
For  should  next  campaign 
Send  us  to  him  who  made  us,  boys, 
We  're  free  from  pain  : 
But  should  we  remain, 
A  bottle  and  kind  landlady 
Makes  all  well  again." 


"So,"  added  he,  "the  poor  lad  who  fell  at 
Waterloo,  in  all  probability,  had  been  singing 
these  songs  in  his  tent  the  night  before  the  bat 
tle,  and  thinking  of  the  fair  dame  who  had 
taught  him  them,  and  promising  himself, 
should  he  outlive  the  campaign,  to  return  to 
her  all  glorious  from  the  wars." 

I  find  since  that  Scott  published  translations 
of  these  songs  among  some  of  his  smaller 
poems. 

The  evening  passed  away  delightfully  in  this 


BbbotsforD  313 


quaint-looking  apartment,  half  study,  half 
drawing-room.  Scott  read  several  passages 
from  the  old  romance  of  Arthur,  with  a  fine 
deep  sonorous  voice,  and  a  gravity  of  tone  that 
seemed  to  suit  the  antiquated,  black-letter  vol 
ume.  It  was  a  rich  treat  to  hear  such  a  work, 
read  by  such  a  person,  and  in  such  a  place  ; 
and  his  appearance  as  he  sat  reading,  in  a  large 
armed  chair,  with  his  favorite  hound  Maida  at 
his  feet,  and  surrounded  by  books  and  relics, 
and  border  trophies,  would  have  formed  an  ad 
mirable  and  most  characteristic  picture. 

While  Scott  was  reading,  the  sage  grimalkin 
already  mentioned  had  taken  his  seat  in  a  chair 
beside  the  fire,  and  remained  with  fixed  eye 
and  grave  demeanor,  as  if  listening  to  the 
reader.  I  observed  to  Scott  that  his  cat  seemed 
to  have  a  black-letter  taste  in  literature. 

' '  Ah, ' '  said  he,  '  *  these  cats  are  a  very  mys 
terious  kind  of  folk.  There  is  always  more 
passing  in  their  minds  than  we  are  aware  of. 
It  comes  from  their  being  so  familiar  with 
witches  and  warlocks. ' '  He  went  on  to  tell  a 
little  story  about  a  gude  man  who  was  return 
ing  to  his  cottage  one  night,  when,  in  a  lonely 
out-of-the-way  place,  he  met  with  a  funeral 
procession  of  cats  all  in  mourning,  bearing  one 
of  their  race  to  the  grave  in  a  cofiin  covered 
with  a  black  velvet  pall.  The  worthy  man, 


314  Crayon 


astonished  and  half  frightened  at  so  strange  a 
pageant,  hastened  home  and  told  what  he  had 
seen  to  his  wife  and  children.  Scarce  had  he 
finished,  when  a  great  black  cat  that  sat  beside 
the  fire  raised  himself  up,  exclaimed,  * l  Then 
I  am  king  of  the  cats  !  "  and  vanished  up  the 
chimney.  The  funeral  seen  by  the  gude  man 
was  one  of  the  cat  dynasty. 

"  Our  grimalkin  here,"  added  Scott,  "some 
times  reminds  me  of  the  story,  by  the  airs  of 
sovereignty  which  he  assumes ;  and  I  am  apt 
to  treat  him  with  respect  from  the  idea  that  he 
may  be  a  great  prince  incog. ,  and  may  some 
time  or  other  come  to  the  throne." 

In  this  way  Scott  would  make  the  habits  and 
peculiarities  of  even  the  dumb  animals  about 
him  subjects  for  humorous  remark  and  whim 
sical  story. 

Our  evening  was  enlivened  also  by  an  occa 
sional  song  from  Sophia  Scott,  at  the  request 
of  her  father.  She  never  wanted  to  be  asked 
twice,  but  complied  frankly  and  cheerfully. 
Her  songs  were  all  Scotch,  sung  without  any 
accompaniment,  in  a  simple  manner,  but  with 
great  spirit  and  expression,  and  in  their  native 
dialects,  which  gave  them  an  additional  charm. 
It  was  delightful  to  hear  her  carol  off  in 
sprightly  style,  and  with  an  animated  air, 
some  of  those  generous-spirited  old  Jacobite 


BbbotstotD  315 


songs,  once  current  among  the  adherents  of  the 
Pretender  in  Scotland,  in  which  he  is  designated 
by  the  appellation  of  "  The  Young  Chevalier." 

These  songs  were  much  relished  by  Scott, 
notwithstanding  his  loyalty  ;  for  the  unfortu 
nate  ' '  Chevalier ' '  has  always  been  a  hero  of 
romance  with  him,  as  he  has  with  many  other 
stanch  adherents  to  the  house  of  Hanover, 
now  that  the  Stuart  line  has  lost  all  its  terrors. 
In  speaking  on  the  subject,  Scott  mentioned  as 
a  curious  fact,  that,  among  the  papers  of  the 
"Chevalier,"  which  had  been  submitted  by 
government  to  his  inspection,  he  had  found  a 
memorial  to  Charles  from  some  adherents  in 
America,  dated  1778,  proposing  to  set  up  his 
standard  in  the  back  settlements.  I  regret 
that,  at  the  time,  I  did  not  make  more  particular 
inquiries  of  Scott  on  the  subject ;  the  document 
in  question,  however,  in  all  probability,  still 
exists  among  the  Pretender's  papers,  which  are 
in  the  possession  of  the  British  Government. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  Scott  related 
the  story  of  a  whimsical  picture  hanging  in 
the  room,  which  had  been  drawn  for  him  by  a 
lady  of  his  acquaintance.  It  represented  the 
doleful  perplexity  of  a  wealthy  and  handsome 
young  English  knight  of  the  olden  time,  who, 
in  the  course  of  a  border  foray,  had  been  cap 
tured  and  carried  off  to  the  castle  of  a  hard- 


316  dragon 


headed  and  high-handed  old  baron.  The 
unfortunate  youth  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon, 
and  a  tall  gallows  erected  before  the  castle  gate 
for  his  execution.  When  all  was  ready,  he 
was  brought  into  the  castle  hall,  where  the 
grim  baron  was  seated  in  state,  with  his  war 
riors  armed  to  the  teeth  around  him,  and  was 
given  his  choice,  either  to  swing  on  the  gibbet 
or  to  marry  the  baron's  daughter.  The  last 
may  be  thought  an  easy  alternative,  but,  un 
fortunately,  the  baron's  young  lady  was  hid 
eously  ugly,  with  a  mouth  from  ear  to  ear,  so 
that  not  a  suitor  was  to  be  had  for  her,  either 
for  love  or  money,  and  she  was  known  through 
out  the  border  country  by  the  name  of  Muckle- 
mouthed  Mag  ! 

The  picture  in  question  represented  the  un 
happy  dilemma  of  the  handsome  youth.  Be 
fore  him  sat  the  grim  baron,  with  a  face  worthy 
of  the  father  of  such  a  daughter,  and  looking 
daggers  and  ratsbane.  On  one  side  of  him 
was  Muckle-mouthed  Mag,  with  an  amorous 
smile  across  the  whole  breadth  of  her  counte 
nance,  and  a  leer  enough  to  turn  a  man  to 
stone ;  on  the  other  side  was  the  father  con 
fessor,  a  sleek  friar,  jogging  the  youth's  elbow, 
and  pointing  to  the  gallows,  seen  in  perspective 
through  the  open  portal. 

The  story  goes,  that,  after  long  laboring  in 


Sbbotsforfc  317 


mind  between  the  altar  and  the  halter,  the  love 
of  life  prevailed,  and  the  youth  resigned  him 
self  to  the  charms  of  Muckle-mouthed  Mag. 
Contrary  to  all  the  probabilities  of  romance, 
the  match  proved  a  happy  one.  The  baron's 
daughter,  if  not  beautiful,  was  a  most  exem 
plary  wife ;  her  husband  was  never  troubled 
with  any  of  those  doubts  and  jealousies  which 
sometimes  mar  the  happiness  of  connubial  life, 
and  was  made  the  father  of  a  fair  and  un 
doubtedly  legitimate  line,  which  still  flourishes 
on  the  border. 

I  give  but  a  faint  outline  of  the  story  from 
vague  recollection  ;  it  may,  perchance,  be  more 
richly  related  elsewhere,  by  some  one  who  may 
retain  something  of  the  delightful  humor  with 
which  Scott  recounted  it. 

When  I  retired  for  the  night,  I  found  it 
almost  impossible  to  sleep ;  the  idea  of  being 
under  the  roof  of  Scott,  of  being  on  the  borders 
of  the  Tweed,  in  the  very  centre  of  that  region 
which  had  for  some  time  past  been  the  favorite 
scene  of  romantic  fiction,  and  above  all  the 
recollections  of  the  ramble  I  had  taken,  the 
company  in  which  I  had  taken  it,  and  the 
conversation  which  had  passed,  all  fermented 
in  my  mind,  and  nearly  drove  sleep  from  my 
pillow. 

On  the  following  morning  the  sun  darted  his 


dragon 


beams  from  over  the  hills  through  the  low 
lattice  window.  I  rose  at  an  early  hour,  and 
looked  out  between  the  branches  of  eglantine 
which  overhung  the  casement.  To  my  sur 
prise  Scott  was  already  up  and  forth,  seated  on 
a  fragment  of  stone,  and  chatting  with  the 
workmen  employed  on  the  new  building.  I 
had  supposed,  after  the  time  he  had  wasted 
upon  me  yesterday,  he  would  be  closely  occu 
pied  this  morning  ;  but  he  appeared  like  a  man 
of  leisure,  who  had  nothing  to  do  but  bask  in 
the  sunshine  and  amuse  himself. 

I  soon  dressed  myself  and  joined  him.  He 
talked  about  his  proposed  plans  of  Abbotsford  ; 
happy  would  it  have  been  for  him  could  he 
have  contented  himself  with  his  delightful 
little  vine-covered  cottage,  and  the  simple  yet 
hearty  and  hospitable  style  in  which  he  lived 
at  the  time  of  my  visit.  The  great  pile  of 
Abbotsford,  with  the  huge  expense  it  entailed 
upon  him,  of  servants,  retainers,  guests,  and 
baronial  style,  was  a  drain  upon  his  purse,  a 
tax  upon  his  exertions  and  a  weight  upon  his 
mind,  that  finally  crushed  him. 

As  yet,  however,  all  was  in  embryo  and  per 
spective,  and  Scott  pleased  himself  with  pictur 
ing  out  his  future  residence,  as  he  would  one 
of  the  fanciful  creations  of  his  own  romances. 
* '  It  was  one  of  his  air-castles/ '  he  said,  '  *  which 


Bbbotsforfc  319 


lie  was  reducing  to  solid  stone  and  mortar.'* 
About  the  place  were  strewed  various  morsels 
from  the  ruins  of  Melrose  Abbey,  which  were 
to  be  incorporated  in  his  mansion.  He  had 
already  constructed  out  of  similar  materials  a 
kind  of  Gothic  shrine  over  a  spring,  and  had 
surmounted  it  by  a  small  stone  cross. 

Among  the  relics  from  the  Abbey  which  lay 
scattered  before  us,  was  a  most  quaint  and 
antique  little  lion,  either  of  red  stone,  or  painted 
red,  which  hit  my  fancy.  I  forget  whose  cog 
nizance  it  was ;  but  I  shall  never  forget  the 
delightful  observations  concerning  old  Melrose 
to  which  it  accidentally  gave  rise. 

The  Abbey  was  evidently  a  pile  that  called 
up  all  Scott's  poetic  and  romantic  feelings ; 
and  one  to  which  he  was  enthusiastically 
attached  by  the  most  fanciful  and  delightful  of 
his  early  associations.  He  spoke  of  it,  I  may 
say,  with  affection.  "There  is  no  telling," 
said  he,  ' '  what  treasures  are  hid  in  that  glori 
ous  old  pile.  It  is  a  famous  place  for  anti 
quarian  plunder ;  there  are  such  rich  bits  of 
old-time  sculpture  for  the  architect,  and  old- 
time  story  for  the  poet.  There  is  as  rare 
picking  in  it  as  in  a  Stilton  cheese,  and  in  the 
same  taste — the  mouldier  the  better." 

He  went  on  to  mention  circumstances  of 
1  mighty  import ' '  connected  with  the  Abbey, 


320  Gragon 


which  had  never  been  touched,  and  which  had 
even  escaped  the  researches  of  Johnny  Bower. 
The  heart  of  Robert  Bruce,  the  hero  of  Scot 
land,  had  been  buried  in  it.  He  dwelt  on  the 
beautiful  story  of  Bruce' s  pious  and  chivalrous 
request  in  his  dying  hour,  that  his  heart  might 
be  carried  to  the  Holy  I^and  and  placed  in  the 
Holy  Sepulchre,  in  fulfilment  of  a  vo^  of 
pilgrimage ;  and  of  the  loyal  expedition  of 
Sir  James  Douglas  to  convey  the  glorious  relic. 
Much  might  be  made,  he  said,  out  of  the  ad 
ventures  of  Sir  James  in  that  adventurous 
age  ;  of  his  fortunes  in  Spain,  and  his  death  in 
a  crusade  against  the  Moors  ;  with  the  subse 
quent  fortunes  of  the  heart  of  Robert  Bruce 
until  it  was  brought  back  to  its  native  land, 
and  enshrined  within  the  holy  walls  of  old 
Melrose. 

As  Scott  sat  on  a  stone  talking  in  this  way, 
and  knocking  with  his  staff  against  the  little 
red  lion  which  lay  prostrate  before  him,  his 
gray  eyes  twinkled  beneath  his  shagged  eye 
brows  ;  scenes,  images,  incidents,  kept  break 
ing  upon  his  mind  as  he  proceeded,  mingled 
with  touches  of  the  mysterious  and  super 
natural  as  connected  with  the  heart  of  Bruce. 
It  seemed  as  if  a  poem  or  romance  were  break 
ing  vaguely  on  his  imagination.  That  he  sub 
sequently  contemplated  something  of  the  kind, 


BbbotsforD  321 


as  connected  with  this  subject  and  with  his 
favorite  ruin  of  Melrose,  is  evident  from  his 
introduction  to  ' '  The  Monastery ' '  ;  and  it  is  a 
pity  that  he  never  succeeded  in  following  out 
these  shadowy  but  enthusiastic  conceptions. 

A  summons  to  breakfast  broke  off  our  con 
versation,  when  I  begged  to  recommend  to 
Scott's  attention  my  friend  the  little  red  lion, 
who  had  led  to  such  an  interesting  topic,  and 
hoped  he  might  receive  some  niche  or  station 
in  the  future  castle,  worthy  of  his  evident 
antiquity  and  apparent  dignity.  Scott  assured 
me,  with  comic  gravity,  that  the  valiant  little 
lion  should  be  most  honorably  entertained ;  I 
hope,  therefore,  that  he  still  flourishes  at 
Abbotsford. 

Before  dismissing  the  theme  of  the  relics 
from  the  Abbey,  I  will  mention  another,  illus 
trative  of  Scott's  varied  humors.  This  was  a 
human  skull,  which  had  probably  belonged  of 
yore  to  one  of  those  jovial  friars  so  honorably 
mentioned  in  the  old  border  ballad, — 

"  O  the  monks  of  Melrose  made  gude  kale 

On  Fridays,  when  they  fasted  ; 
They  wanted  neither  beef  nor  ale, 
As  long  as  their  neighbors'  lasted." 

This  skull  Scott  had  caused  to  be  cleaned 
and  varnished,  and  placed  it  on  a  chest  of 


322  Crayon 


drawers  in  his  chamber,  immediately  opposite 
his  bed ;  where  I  have  seen  it,  grinning  most 
dismally.  It  was  an  object  of  great  awe  and 
horror  to  the  superstitious  housemaids  ;  and 
Scott  used  to  amuse  himself  with  their  appre 
hensions.  Sometimes,  in  changing  his  dress, 
he  would  leave  his  neck-cloth  coiled  round  it 
like  a  turban,  and  none  of  the  "  lasses  "  dared 
to  remove  it.  It  was  a  matter  of  great  wonder 
and  speculation  among  them  that  the  laird 
should  have  such  an  "awsome  fancy  for  an 
auld  girning  skull." 

At  breakfast  that  morning  Scott  gave  an 
amusing  account  of  a  little  Highlander  called 
Campbell  of  the  North,  who  had  a  lawsuit  of 
many  years'  standing  with  a  nobleman  in  his 
neighborhood  about  the  boundaries  of  their 
estates.  It  was  the  leading  object  of  the  little 
man's  life  ;  the  running  theme  of  all  his  con 
versations  ;  he  used  to  detail  all  the  circum 
stances  at  full  length  to  everybody  he  met, 
and,  to  aid  him  in  his  description  of  the  premises, 
and  make  his  story  "  mair  preceese,"  he  had 
a  great  map  made  of  his  estate,  a  huge  roll  sev 
eral  feet  long,  which  he  used  to  carry  about  on 
his  shoulder.  Campbell  was  a  long-bodied  but 
short  and  bandy-legged  little  man,  always  clad 
in  the  Highland  garb  ;  and  as  he  went  about 
with  this  great  roll  on  his  shoulder,  and  his 


Bbbotsforfc  323 


little  legs  curving  like  a  pair  of  parentheses 
below  his  kilt,  he  was  an  odd  figure  to  behold. 
He  was  like  little  David  shouldering  the  spear 
of  Goliath,  which  was  "like  unto  a  weaver's 
beam." 

Whenever  sheep-shearing  was  over,  Camp 
bell  used  to  set  out  for  Edinburgh  to  attend  to 
his  lawsuit.  At  the  inns  he  paid  double  for 
all  his  meals  and  his  nights'  lodging  ;  telling 
the  landlords  to  keep  it  in  mind  until  his  re 
turn,  so  that  he  might  come  back  that  way  at 
free  cost ;  for  he  knew,  he  said,  that  he  would 
spend  all  his  money  among  the  lawyers  at 
Edinburgh,  so  he  thought  it  best  to  secure  a 
retreat  home  again. 

On  one  of  his  visits  he  called  upon  his  law 
yer,  but  was  told  he  was  not  at  home,  but  his 
lady  was.  "It  is  just  the  same  thing,"  said 
little  Campbell.  On  being  shown  into  the 
parlor,  he  unrolled  his  map,  stated  his  case  at 
full  length,  and,  having  gone  through  with  his 
story,  gave  her  the  customary  fee.  She  would 
have  declined  it,  but  he  insisted  on  her  taking 
it.  "  I  ha'  had  just  as  much  pleasure,"  said 
he,  '  *  in  telling  the  whole  tale  to  you  as  I  should 
have  had  in  telling  it  to  your  husband,  and  I 
believe  full  as  much  profit. ' ' 

The  last  time  he  saw  Scott,  he  told  him  he 
believed  he  and  the  laird  were  near  a  settle- 


324  Crayon 


ment,  as  they  agreed  to  within  a  few  miles  of 
the  boundary.  If  I  recollect  right,  Scott  added 
that  he  advised  the  little  man  to  consign  his 
cause  and  his  map  to  the  care  of  * '  Slow  Willie 
Mowbray , ' '  of  tedious  memory  :  an  Edinburgh 
worthy,  much  employed  by  the  country  people, 
for  he  tired  out  everybody  in  office  by  repeated 
visits  and  drawlings,  endless  prolixity,  and 
gained  every  suit  by  dint  of  boring. 

These  little  stories  and  anecdotes,  which 
abounded  in  Scott's  conversation,  rose  naturally 
out  of  the  subject,  and  were  perfectly  unforced  ; 
though  in  thus  relating  them  in  a  detached 
way,  without  the  observations  or  circumstances 
which  led  to  them,  and  which  have  passed 
from  my  recollection,  they  want  their  setting 
to  give  them  proper  relief.  They  will  serve, 
however,  to  show  the  natural  play  of  his  mind, 
in  its  familiar  moods,  and  its  fecundity  in 
graphic  and  characteristic  detail. 

His  daughter  Sophia  and  his  son  Charles 
were  those  of  his  family  who  seemed  most  to 
feel  and  understand  his  humors,  and  to  take 
delight  in  his  conversation.  Mrs.  Scott  did  not 
always  pay  the  same  attention,  and  would  now 
and  then  make  a  casual  remark  which  would 
operate  a  little  like  a  damper.  Thus,  one 
morning  at  breakfast,  when  Dominie  Thomp 
son  the  tutor  was  present,  Scott  was  going  on 


325 


with  great  glee  to  relate  an  anecdote  of  the 
laird  of  Macnab,  "who,  poor  fellow!"  pre 
mised  he,  "  is  dead  and  gone." — "  Why,  Mr. 
Scott, ' '  exclaimed  the  good  lady,  ' '  Macnab'  s 
not  dead,  is  he  ?  "  — "  Faith  my  dear,"  replied 
Scott,  with  humorous  gravity,  "if  he's  not 
dead  they've  done  him  great  injustice, — for 
they  've  buried  him." 

The  joke  passed  harmless  and  unnoticed  by 
Mrs.  Scott,  but  hit  the  poor  dominie  just  as  he 
had  raised  a  cup  of  tea  to  his  lips,  causing  a 
burst  of  laughter  which  sent  half  of  the  con 
tents  about  the  table. 

After  breakfast,  Scott  was  occupied  for  some 
time  correcting  proof-sheets,  which  he  had  re 
ceived  by  the  mail.  The  novel  of  Rob  Roy, 
as  I  have  already  observed,  was  at  that  time 
in  the  press,  and  I  supposed  them  to  be  the 
proof-sheets  of  that  work.  The  authorship 
of  the  Waverly  novels  was  still  a  matter  of 
conjecture  and  uncertainty ;  though  few  doubted 
their  being  principally  written  by  Scott.  One 
proof  to  me  of  his  being  the  author,  was  that 
he  never  adverted  to  them.  A  man  so  fond  of 
anything  Scottish,  and  anything  relating  to 
national  history  or  local  legend,  could  not  have 
been  mute  respecting  such  productions,  had 
they  been  written  by  another.  He  was  fond 


326  dragon 


of  quoting  the  works  of  his  contemporaries  ; 
he  was  continually  reciting  scraps  of  border 
songs,  or  relating  anecdotes  of  border  story. 
With  respect  to  his  own  poems  and  their 
merits,  however,  he  was  mute,  and  while 
with  him  I  observed  a  scrupulous  silence  on 
the  subject. 

I  may  here  mention  a  singular  fact,  of  which 
I  was  not  aware  at  the  time,  that  Scott  was 
very  reserved  with  his  children  respecting  his 
own  writings,  and  was  even  disinclined  to  their 
reading  his  romantic  poems.  I  learnt  this, 
some  time  after,  from  a  passage  in  one  of  his 
letters  to  me,  adverting  to  a  set  of  the  American 
miniature  edition  of  his  poems,  which,  on  my 
return  to  England,  I  forwarded  to  one  of  the 
young  ladies.  "  In  my  hurry,"  writes  he,  "  I 
have  not  thanked  you,  in  Sophia's  name,  for 
the  kind  attention  which  furnished  her  with 
the  American  volumes.  I  am  not  quite  sure  I 
can  add  my  own,  since  you  have  made  her 
acquainted  with  much  more  of  papa's  folly 
than  she  would  otherwise  have  learned ;  for 
I  have  taken  special  care  they  should  never 
see  any  of  these  things  during  their  earlier 
years." 

To  return  to  the  thread  of  my  narrative. 
When  Scott  had  got  through  his  brief  literary 
occupation,  we  set  out  on  a  ramble.  The 


Bb&otsforD  327 


young  ladies  started  to  accompany  us,  but  had 
not  gone  far  when  they  met  a  poor  old  laborer 
and  his  distressed  family,  and  turned  back  to 
take  them  to  the  house  and  relieve  them. 

On  passing  the  bounds  of  Abbotsford,  we 
came  upon  a  bleak-looking  farm,  with  a  for 
lorn  crazy  old  manse,  or  farm-house,  standing 
in  naked  desolation.  This,  however,  Scott 
told  me  was  an  ancient  hereditary  property 
called  Lauckend,  about  as  valuable  as  the 
patrimonial  estate  of  Don  Quixote,  and  which, 
in  like  manner,  conferred  an  hereditary  dignity 
upon  its  proprietor,  who  was  a  laird,  and, 
though  poor  as  a  rat,  prided  himself  upon  his 
ancient  blood,  and  the  standing  of  his  house. 
He  was  accordingly  called  I/auckend,  accord 
ing  to  the  Scottish  custom  of  naming  a  man 
after  his  family  estate,  but  he  was  more  gener 
ally  known  through  the  country  round  by  the 
name  of  I/auckie  Long  Legs,  from  the  length 
of  his  limbs.  While  Scott  was  giving  this 
account  of  him,  we  saw  him  at  a  distance 
striding  along  one  of  his  fields,  with  his  plaid 
fluttering  about  him,  and  he  seemed  well  to 
deserve  his  appellation,  for  he  looked  all  legs 
and  tartan. 

Lauckie  knew  nothing  of  the  world  beyond 
his  neighborhood.  Scott  told  me,  that,  on 
returning  to  Abbotsford  from  his  visit  to 


328  dragon 


France,  immediately  after  the  war,  lie  was 
called  on  by  his  neighbors  generally,  to  in 
quire  after  foreign  parts.  Among  the  number, 
came  I^auckie  I/>ng  I^egs  and  an  old  brother 
as  ignorant  as  himself.  They  had  many  in 
quiries  to  make  about  the  French,  whom  they 
seemed  to  consider  some  remote  and  semi- 
barbarous  horde.  "  And  what  like  are  thae 
barbarians  in  their  own  country  ? ' '  said 
Lauckie,  * '  can  they  write  ? — can  they  cipher  ? ' ' 
He  was  quite  astonished  to  learn  that  they 
were  nearly  as  much  advanced  in  civilization 
as  the  gude  folks  of  Abbotsford. 

After  living  for  a  long  time  in  single  blessed 
ness,  I^auckie  all  at  once,  and  not  long  before 
my  visit  to  the  neighborhood,  took  it  into  his 
head  to  get  married.  The  neighbors  were  all 
suprised  ;  but  the  family  connection,  who  were 
as  proud  as  they  were  poor,  were  grievously 
scandalized,  for  they  thought  the  young  woman 
on  whom  he  had  set  his  mind  quite  beneath 
him.  It  was  in  vain,  however,  that  they  re 
monstrated  on  the  misalliance  he  was  about  to 
make  :  he  was  not  to  be  swayed  from  his  de 
termination.  Arraying  himself  in  his  best,  and 
saddling  a  gaunt  steed  that  might  have  rivalled 
Rosinante,  and  placing  a  pillion  behind  his 
saddle,  he  departed  to  wed  and  bring  home  the 
humble  lassie  who  was  to  be  made  mistress  of 


Bbbotsforfc  329 


the  venerable  hovel  of  I^auckend,  and  who 
lived  in  a  village  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
Tweed. 

A  small  event  of  the  kind  makes  a  great  stir 
in  a  little  quiet  country  neighborhood.  The 
word  soon  circulated  through  the  village  of 
Melrose,  and  the  cottages  in  its  vicinity,  that 
I^auckie  L,ong  lyegs  had  gone  over  the  Tweed 
to  fetch  home  his  bride.  All  the  good  folks 
assembled  at  the  bridge  to  await  his  return. 
L/auckie,  however,  disappointed  them ;  for  he 
crossed  the  river  at  a  distant  ford,  and  conveyed 
his  bride  safe  to  his  mansion,  without  being 
perceived. 

L,et  me  step  forward  in  the  course  of  events 
and  relate  the  fate  of  poor  Lauckie,  as  it  was 
communicated  to  me  a  year  or  two  afterwards 
in  a  letter  by  Scott.  From  the  time  of  his 
marriage  he  had  no  longer  any  peace,  owing 
to  the  constant  intermeddlings  of  his  relations, 
who  would  not  permit  him  to  be  happy  in  his 
own  way,  but  endeavored  to  set  him  at  variance 
with  his  wife.  I^auckie  refused  to  credit  any 
of  their  stories  to  her  disadvantage ;  but  the 
incessant  warfare  he  had  to  wage  in  defence  of 
her  good  name,  wore  out  both  flesh  and  spirit. 
His  last  conflict  was  with  his  own  brothers,  in 
front  of  his  paternal  mansion.  A  furious 
scolding-match  took  place  between  them ; 


330  dragon 

I^auckie  made  a  vehement  profession  of  faith 
in  favor  of  her  immaculate  honesty,  and  then 
fell  dead  at  the  threshold  of  his  own  door. 
His  person,  his  character,  his  name,  his  story, 
and  his  fate,  entitled  him  to  be  immortalized 
in  one  of  Scott's  novels,  and  I  looked  to 
recognize  him  in  some  of  the  succeeding  works 
from  his  pen  ;  but  I  looked  in  vain. 

After  passing  by  the  domains  of  honest 
I^auckie,  Scott  pointed  out,  at  a  distance,  the 
Kildon  stone.  There  in  ancient  days  stood 
the  Kildon  tree,  beneath  which  Thomas  the 
Rhymer,  according  to  popular  tradition,  dealt 
forth  his  prophecies,  some  of  which  still  exist 
in  antiquated  ballads. 

Here  we  turned  up  a  little  glen  with  a  small 
burn  or  brook  whimpering  and  dashing  along 
it,  making  an  occasional  waterfall,  and  over 
hung  in  some  places  with  mountain-ash  and 
weeping-birch.  "We  are  now,"  said  Scott, 
' '  treading  classic,  or  rather  fairy  ground.  This 
is  the  haunted  glen  of  Thomas  the  Rhymer, 
where  he  met  with  the  queen  of  fairyland  ; 
and  this  the  bogle  burn,  or  goblin  brook,  along 
which  she  rode  on  her  dapple-gray  palfrey,  with 
silver  bells  ringing  at  the  bridle. 

"Here,"  said  he,  pausing,  "is  Huntley 
Bank,  on  which  Thomas  the  Rhymer  lay 


BbbotstorD  331 


musing  and  sleeping  when  he  saw,  or  dreamt 
he  saw,  the  Queen  of  Blfland  :  — 

"  True  Thomas  lay  on  Huntlie  bank ; 

A  ferlie  tie  spied  wi'  his  e'e  ; 
And  there  he  saw  a  ladye  bright, 

Come  riding  down  by  the  Eildon  tree. 

"  Her  skirt  was  o'  the  grass  green  silk, 

Her  mantle  o'  the  velvet  fyne  ; 
At  ilka  tett  of  her  horse's  mane 
Hung  fifty  siller  bells  and  nine." 

Here  Scott  repeated  several  of  the  stanzas  and 
recounted  the  circumstance  of  Thomas  the 
Rhymer's  interview  with  the  fairy,  and  his 
being  transported  by  her  to  fairyland — 

"  And  till  seven  years  were  gone  and  past, 
True  Thomas  on  earth  was  never  seen." 

"  It  is  a  fine  old  story,"  said  he,  "  and  might 
be  wrought  up  into  a  capital  tale." 

Scott  continued  on,  leading  the  way  as  usual, 
and  limping  up  the  wizard  glen,  talking  as  he 
went,  but  as  his  back  was  toward  me,  I  could 
only  hear  the  deep  growling  tones  of  his  voice, 
like  the  low  breathing  of  an  organ,  without 
distinguishing  the  words,  until  pausing,  and 
turning  his  face  towards  me,  I  found  he  was 
reciting  some  scrap  of  border  minstrelsy  about 
Thomas  the  Rhymer.  This  was  continually 


332  Crayon 


the  case  in  my  ramblings  with  him  about  this 
storied  neighborhood.  His  mind  was  fraught 
with  the  traditionary  fictions  connected  with 
every  object  around  him,  and  he  would  breathe 
it  forth  as  he  went,  apparently  as  much  for  his 
own  gratification  as  for  that  of  his  companion. 

"  Nor  hill,  nor  brook,  we  paced  along, 
But  had  its  legend  or  its  song." 

His  voice  was  deep  and  sonorous,  he  spoke 
with  a  Scottish  accent,  and  with  somewhat  of 
the  Northumbrian  * '  burr, ' '  which,  to  my  mind, 
gave  a  doric  strength  and  simplicity  to  his  elo 
cution.  His  recitation  of  poetry  was,  at  times, 
magnificent. 

I  think  it  was  in  the  course  of  this  ramble 
that  my  friend  Hamlet,  the  black  greyhound, 
got  into  a  sad  scrape.  The  dogs  were  beating 
about  the  glens  and  fields  as  usual,  and  had 
been  for  some  time  out  of  sight,  when  we  heard 
a  barking  at  some  distance  to  the  left. 
Shortly  after  we  saw  some  sheep  scampering 
on  the  hills,  with  the  dogs  after  them.  Scott 
applied  to  his  lips  the  ivory  whistle,  always 
hanging  at  his  button-hole,  and  soon  called  in 
the  culprits,  excepting  Hamlet.  Hastening  up 
a  bank  which  commanded  a  view  along  a  fold 
or  hollow  of  the  hills,  we  beheld  the  sable 


Bbbotsforfc  333 


prince  of  Denmark  standing  by  the  bleeding 
body  of  a  sheep.  The  carcass  was  still  warm, 
the  throat  bore  marks  of  the  fatal  grip,  and 
Hamlet's  muzzle  was  stained  with  blood. 
Never  was  culprit  more  completely  caught  in 
flagrante  delictu.  I  supposed  the  doom  of  poor 
Hamlet  to  be  sealed  ;  for  no  higher  offence  can 
be  committed  by  a  dog  in  a  country  abounding 
with  sheep-walks.  Scott,  however,  had  a 
greater  value  for  his  dogs  than  for  his  sheep. 
They  were  his  companions  and  friends.  Ham 
let,  too,  though  an  irregular,  impertinent  kind 
of  youngster,  was  evidently  a  favorite.  He 
would  not  for  some  time  believe  it  could  be  he 
who  had  killed  the  sheep.  It  must  have  been 
some  cur  of  the  neighborhood  that  had  made  off 
on  our  approach,  and  left  poor  Hamlet  in  the 
lurch.  Proofs,  however,  were  too  strong,  and 
Hamlet  was  generally  condemned.  "  Well, 
well,"  said  Scott,  "it's  partly  my  own  fault.  I 
have  given  up  coursing  for  some  time  past,  and 
the  poor  dog  has  had  no  chance  after  game  to 
take  the  fire  edge  off  of  him.  If  he  was  put 
after  a  hare  occasionally,  he  never  would  med 
dle  with  sheep." 

I  understood,  afterwards,  that  Scott  actually 
got  a  pony,  and  went  out  now  and  then  cours 
ing  with  Hamlet,  who,  in  consequence,  showed 
no  further  inclination  for  mutton. 


334  dragon 


A  further  stroll  among  the  hills  brought  us 
to  what  Scott  pronounced  the  remains  of  a 
Roman  camp,  and  as  we  sat  upon  a  hillock 
which  had  once  formed  a  part  of  the  ramparts, 
he  pointed  out  the  traces  of  the  lines  and  bul 
warks,  andthepraetorium,  and  showed  a  knowl 
edge  of  castrametation  that  would  not  have 
disgraced  the  antiquarian  Oldbuck  himself. 
Indeed,  various  circumstances  that  I  observed 
about  Scott  during  my  visit,  concurred  to  per 
suade  me  that  many  of  the  antiquarian  humors 
of  Monkbarns  were  taken  from  his  own  richly 
compounded  character,  and  that  some  of  the 
scenes  and  personages  of  that  admirable  novel 
were  furnished  by  his  immediate  neighborhood. 

He  gave  me  several  anecdotes  of  a  noted 
pauper  named  Andrew  Gemmells,  or  Gammel, 
as  it  was  pronounced,  who  had  once  flourished 
on  the  banks  of  Galla  Water,  immediately  op 
posite  Abbotsford,  and  whom  he  had  seen  and 
talked  and  joked  with  when  a  boy  ;  and  I 
instantly  recognized  the  likeness  of  that  mirror 
of  philosophic  vagabonds  and  Nestor  of  beg 
gars,  Kdie  Ochiltree.  I  was  on  the  point  of 
pronouncing  the  name  and  recognizing  the  por 
trait,  when  I  recollected  the  incognito  observed 
by  Scott  with  respect  to  his  novels,  and  checked 
myself;  but  it  was  one  among  many  things 
that  tended  to  convince  me  of  his  authorship. 


Bbbotsforfc  335 


His  picture  of  Andrew  Gemmells  exactly  ac 
corded  with  that  of  Edie  as  to  his  height,  car 
riage,  and  soldier-like  air,  as  well  as  his  arch 
and  sarcastic  humor.  His  home,  if  home  he 
had,  was  at  Gallashiels  ;  but  he  went  * '  daun- 
dering"  about  the  country,  along  the  green 
shaws  and  beside  the  burns,  and  was  a  kind 
of  walking  chronicle  throughout  the  valleys  of 
the  Tweed,  the  Bttrick,  and  the  Yarrow ;  car 
rying  the  gossip  from  house  to  house,  com 
menting  on  the  inhabitants  and  their  concerns, 
and  never  hesitating  to  give  them  a  dry  rub  as 
to  any  of  their  faults  or  follies. 

A  shrewd  beggar  like  Andrew  Gemmells, 
Scott  added,  who  could  sing  the  old  Scotch  airs, 
tell  stories  and  traditions,  and  gossip  away  the 
long  winter  evenings,  was  by  no  means  an 
unwelcome  visitor  at  a  lonely  manse  or  cot 
tage.  The  children  would  run  to  welcome 
him,  and  place  his  stool  in  a  warm  corner  of 
the  ingle  nook,  and  the  old  folks  would  receive 
him  as  a  privileged  guest. 

As  to  Andrew,  he  looked  upon  them  all  as  a 
parson  does  upon  his  parishioners,  and  consid 
ered  the  alms  he  received  as  much  his  due  as 
the  other  does  his  tithes.  I  rather  think, 
added  Scott,  Andrew  considered  himself  more 
of  a  gentleman  than  those  who  toiled  for  a  liv 
ing,  and  that  he  secretly  looked  down  upon  the 


336  Crayon 


painstaking  peasants  that  fed  and  sheltered 
him. 

He  had  derived  his  aristocratical  notions  in 
some  degree  from  being  admitted  occasionally 
to  a  precarious  sociability  with  some  of  the 
small  country  gentry,  who  were  sometimes  in 
want  of  company  to  help  while  away  the  time. 
With  these  Andrew  would  now  and  then  play 
at  cards  and  dice,  and  he  never  lacked  "siller 
in  pouch  "  to  stake  on  a  game,  which  he  did 
with  the  perfect  air  of  a  man  to  whom  money 
was  a  matter  of  little  moment ;  and  no  one 
could  lose  his  money  with  more  gentlemanlike 
coolness. 

Among  those  who  occasionally  admitted  him 
to  this  familiarity,  was  old  John  Scott  of  Galla, 
a  man  of  family,  who  inhabited  his  paternal 
mansion  of  Torwoodlee.  Some  distinction  of 
rank,  however,  was  still  kept  up.  The  laird 
sat  on  the  inside  of  the  window  and  the  beg 
gar  on  the  outside,  and  they  played  cards  on 
the  sill. 

Andrew  now  and  then  told  the  laird  a  piece 
of  his  mind  very  freely  ;  especially  on  one  occa 
sion,  when  he  had  sold  some  of  his  paternal  lands 
to  build  himself  a  larger  house  with  the  pro 
ceeds.  The  speech  of  honest  Andrew  smacks 
of  the  shrewdness  of  Kdie  Ochiltree. 

"  It  's  a'   varra  weel — it  's  a'   varra  weel, 


Bbbotsforfc  337 


Torwoodlee,"  said  he;  "but  who  would  ha* 
thought  that  your  father's  son  would  ha'  sold 
two  gude  estates  to  build  a  shaw's  (cuckoo's) 
nest  on  the  side  of  a  hill  ?  ' ' 

That  day  there  was  an  arrival  at  Abbotsford 
of  two  English  tourists :  one  a  gentleman  of 
fortune  and  landed  estate,  the  other  a  young 
clergyman  whom  he  appeared  to  have  under 
his  patronage,  and  to  have  brought  with  him 
as  a  travelling  companion. 

The  patron  was  one  of  those  well-bred,  com 
monplace  gentlemen  with  which  England  is 
overrun.  He  had  great  deference  for  Scott, 
and  endeavored  to  acquit  himself  learnedly  in 
his  company,  aiming  continually  at  abstract 
disquisitions,  for  which  Scott  had  little  relish. 
The  conversation  of  the  latter,  as  usual,  was 
studded  with  anecdotes  and  stories,  some  of 
them  of  great  pith  and  humor  :  the  well-bred 
gentleman  was  either  too  dull  to  feel  their  point, 
or  too  decorous  to  indulge  in  hearty  merriment ; 
the  honest  parson,  on  the  contrary,  who  was 
not  too  refined  to  be  happy,  laughed  loud  and 
long  at  every  joke,  and  enjoyed  them  with  the 
zest  of  a  man  who  has  more  merriment  in  his 
heart  than  coin  in  his  pocket. 

After  they  were  gone,  some  comments  were 
made  upon  their  different  deportments.  Scott 


VOL.  I.— 23 


338  Crayon  dfotecellang 


spoke  very  respectfully  of  the  good  breeding 
and  measured  manners  of  the  man  of  wealth, 
but  with  a  kindlier  feeling  of  the  honest  parson, 
and  the  homely  but  hearty  enjoyment  with 
which  he  relished  every  pleasantry.  ' '  I 
doubt,"  said  he,  "whether  the  parson's  lot  in 
life  is  not  the  best ;  if  he  cannot  command  as 
many  of  the  good  things  of  this  world  by  his 
own  purse  as  his  patron  can,  he  beats  him  all 
hollow  in  his  enjoyment  of  them  when  set 
before  him  by  others.  Upon  the  whole, '  *  added 
he,  "  I  rather  think  I  prefer  the  honest  parson's 
good  humor  to  his  patron's  good  breeding  ;  I 
have  a  great  regard  for  a  hearty  laugher." 

He  went  on  to  speak  of  the  great  influx  of 
English  travellers,  which  of  late  years  had  in 
undated  Scotland  ;  and  doubted  whether  they 
had  not  injured  the  old-fashioned  Scottish 
character.  *  *  Formerly,  they  came  here  occa 
sionally  as  sportsmen,"  said  he,  "to  shoot 
moor-game,  without  any  idea  of  looking  at 
scenery  ;  and  they  moved  about  the  country  in 
hardy,  simple  style,  coping  with  the  country 
people  in  their  own  way  ;  but  now  they  come 
rolling  about  in  their  equipages,  to  see  ruins, 
and  spend  money ;  and  their  lavish  extrava 
gance  has  played  the  vengeance  with  the  com 
mon  people.  It  has  made  them  rapacious  in 
their  dealings  with  strangers,  greedy  after 


Bbbotsforfc  339 


money,  and  extortionate  in  their  demands  for 
the  most  trivial  services.  Formerly,"  con 
tinued  he,  ' '  the  poorer  classes  of  our  people 
were  comparatively  disinterested  ;  they  offered 
their  services  gratuitously,  in  promoting  the 
amusement,  or  aiding  the  curiosity  of  strangers, 
and  were  gratified  by  the  smallest  compensa 
tion  ;  but  now  they  make  a  trade  of  showing 
rocks  and  ruins,  and  are  as  greedy  as  Italian 
cicerones.  They  look  upon  the  English  as  so 
many  walking  money-bags  ;  the  more  they  are 
shaken  and  poked,  the  more  they  will  leave 
behind  them." 

I  told  him  that  he  had  a  great  deal  to  answer 
for  on  that  head,  since  it  was  the  romantic 
associations  he  had  thrown  by  his  writings  over 
so  many  out-of-the-way  places  in  Scotland,  that 
had  brought  in  the  influx  of  curious  travellers. 

Scott  laughed,  and  said  he  believed  I  might 
be  in  some  measure  in  the  right,  as  he  recol 
lected  a  circumstance  in  point.  Being  one 
time  at  Glenross,  an  old  woman  who  kept  a 
small  inn,  which  had  but  little  custom,  was 
uncommonly  oflicious  in  her  attendance  upon 
him,  and  absolutely  incommoded  him  with  her 
civilities.  The  secret  at  length  came  out. 
As  he  was  about  to  depart,  she  addressed  him 
with  many  curtsies,  and  said  she  understood 
he  was  the  gentleman  that  had  written  a  bon- 


340  Crayon 


nie  book  about  I^ch  Katrine.  She  begged 
him  to  write  a  little  about  their  lake  also,  for 
she  understood  his  book  had  done  the  inn  at 
Loch  Katrine  a  muckle  deal  of  good. 

On  the  following  day  I  made  an  excursion 
with  Scott  and  the  young  ladies  to  Dryburgh 
Abbey.  We  went  in  an  open  carriage,  drawn 
by  two  sleek  old  black  horses,  for  which  Scott 
seemed  to  have  an  affection,  as  he  had  for 
every  dumb  animal  that  belonged  to  him. 
Our  road  lay  through  a  variety  of  scenes,  rich 
in  poetical  and  historical  associations,  about 
most  of  which  Scott  had  something  to  relate. 
In  one  part  of  the  drive  he  pointed  to  an  old 
border  keep,  or  fortress,  on  the  summit  of  a 
naked  hill,  several  miles  off,  which  he  called 
Smallholm  Tower,  and  a  rocky  knoll  on  which 
it  stood,  the  "  Sandy  Knowe  crags."  It  was 
a  place,  he  said,  peculiarly  dear  to  him,  from 
the  recollections  of  childhood.  His  grand 
father  had  lived  there  in  the  old  Smallholm 
Grange,  or  farmhouse ;  and  he  had  been  sent 
there,  when  but  two  years  old,  on  account  of 
his  lameness,  that  he  might  have  the  benefit 
of  the  pure  air  of  the  hills,  and  be  under  the 
care  of  his  grandmother  and  aunts. 

In  the  introduction  of  one  of  the  cantos  of 
"  Marmion,"  he  has  depicted  his  grandfather, 
and  the  fireside  of  the  farmhouse ;  and  has 


SbfcotsforD  341 


given  an  amusing  picture  of  himself  in  his 
boyish  years. 

"Still  with  vain  fondness  could  I  trace 
Anew  each  kind  familiar  face, 
That  brightened  at  our  evening  fire ; 
From  the  thatched  mansion's  gray-haired  sire, 
Wise  without  learning,  plain  and  good, 
And  sprung  of  Scotland's  gentler  blood  ; 
Whose  eye  in  age,  quick,  clear,  and  keen, 
Showed  what  in  youth  its  glance  had  been  ; 
Whose  doom  discording  neighbors  sought, 
Content  with  equity  unbought ; 
To  him  the  venerable  priest, 
Our  frequent  and  familiar  guest, 
Whose  life  and  manners  well  could  paint 
Alike  the  student  and  the  saint ; 
Alas  !  whose  speech  too  oft  I  broke 
With  gambol  rude  and  timeless  joke  ; 
For  I  was  wayward,  bold,  and  wild, 
A  self-willed  imp,  a  grandame's  child  ; 
But  half  a  plague,  and  half  a  jest, 
Was  still  endured,  beloved,  carest." 

It  was,  he  said,  during  his  residence  at 
Smallholm  crags,  that  he  first  imbibed  his 
passion  for  legendary  tales,  border  traditions, 
and  old  national  songs  and  ballads.  His 
grandmother  and  aunts  were  well  versed  in 
that  kind  of  lore  so  current  in  Scottish  country 
life.  They  used  to  recount  them  in  long, 
gloomy  winter  days,  and  about  the  ingle  nook 


342  Crayon  flM0cellanB 


at  night,  in  conclave  with  their  gossip  visitors  ; 
and  little  Walter  would  sit  and  listen  with 
greedy  ear ;  thus  taking  into  his  infant  mind 
the  seeds  of  many  a  splendid  fiction. 

There  was  an  old  shepherd,  he  said,  in  the 
service  of  the  family,  who  used  to  sit  under 
the  sunny  wall,  and  tell  marvellous  stories, 
and  recite  old-time  ballads,  as  he  knitted 
stockings.  Scott  used  to  be  wheeled  out  in 
his  chair,  in  fine  weather,  and  would  sit  be 
side  the  old  man,  and  listen  to  him  for  hours. 

The  situation  of  Sandy  Knowe  was  favor 
able  both  for  story-teller  and  listener.  It  com 
manded  a  wide  view  over  all  the  border 
country,  with  its  feudal  towers,  its  haunted 
glens,  and  wizard  streams.  As  the  old  shep 
herd  told  his  tales,  he  could  point  out  the 
very  scene  of  action.  Thus,  before  Scott 
could  walk,  he  was  made  familiar  with  the 
scenes  of  his  future  stories  ;  they  were  all  seen 
as  through  a  magic  medium,  and  took  that 
tinge  of  romance  which  they  ever  after  re 
tained  in  his  imagination.  From  the  height 
of  Sandy  Knowe  he  may  be  said  to  have  had 
the  first  look-out  upon  the  promised  land  of 
his  future  glory. 

On  referring  to  Scott's  works,  I  find  many 
of  the  circumstances  related  in  this  conversa 
tion  about  the  old  tower,  and  the  boyish  scenes 


BbbotstorD  343 


connected  with  it,  recorded  in  the  introduction 
to  '  *  Marmion  ' '  already  cited.  This  was  fre 
quently  the  case  with  Scott;  incidents  and 
feelings  that  had  appeared  in  his  writings, 
were  apt  to  be  mingled  up  in  his  conversation, 
for  they  had  been  taken  from  what  he  had 
witnessed  and  felt  in  real  life,  and  were  con 
nected  with  those  scenes  among  which  he 
lived,  and  moved,  and  had  his  being.  I  make 
no  scruple  at  quoting  the  passage  relative  to 
the  tower,  though  it  repeats  much  of  the  fore 
gone  imagery,  and  with  vastly  superior  effect. 

"  Thus,  while  I  ape  the  measure  wild 
Of  tales  that  charmed  me  yet  a  child, 
Rude  though  they  be,  still  with  the  chime 
Return  the  thoughts  of  early  time  ; 
And  feelings  roused  in  life's  first  day 
Glow  in  the  line,  and  prompt  the  lay. 
Then  rise  those  crags,  that  mountain  tower, 
Which  charmed  my  fancy's  wakening  hour, 
Though  no  broad  river  swept  along 
To  claim  perchance  heroic  song  ; 
Though  sighed  no  groves  in  summer  gale 
To  prompt  of  love  a  softer  tale  ; 
Though  scarce  a  puny  streamlet's  speed 
Claimed  horn  age  from  a  shepherd's  reed  ; 
Yet  was  poetic  impulse  given, 
By  the  green  hill  and  clear  blue  heaven. 
It  was  a  barren  scene,  and  wild, 
Where  naked  cliffs  were  rudely  piled  ; 
But  ever  and  anon  between 


344  Crayon 


Lay  velvet  tufts  of  loveliest  green  ; 

And  well  the  lonely  infant  knew 

Recesses  where  the  wall-flower  grew. 

And  honeysuckle  loved  to  crawl 

Up  the  low  crag  and  ruined  wall. 

I  deemed  such  nooks  the  sweetest  shade 

The  sun  in  all  his  round  surveyed  ; 

And  still  I  thought  that  shattered  tower 

The  mightiest  work  of  human  power  ; 

And  marvelled  as  the  aged  hind 

With  some  strange  tale  bewitched  my  mind 

Of  forayers,  who,  with  headlong  force, 

Down   from   that  strength  had  spurred  their 

horse, 

Their  southern  rapine  to  renew, 
Far  in  the  distant  Cheviot's  blue, 
And,  home  returning,  filled  the  hall 
With  revel,  wassail-rout,  and  brawl — 
Methought  that  still  with  tramp  and  clang 
The  gateway's  broken  arches  rang ; 
Methought  grim  features,  seamed  with  scars 
Glared  through  the  window's  rusty  bars. 
And  ever  by  the  winter  hearth, 
Old  tales  I  heard  of  woe  or  mirth, 
Of  lovers'  slights,  of  ladies  charms, 
Of  witches'  spells,  of  warriors'  arms ; 
Of  patriot  battles  won  of  old 
By  Wallace  wight  and  Bruce  the  bold  ; 
Of  later  fields  of  feud  and  fight, 
When  pouring  from  the  Highland  height, 
The  Scottish  clans,  in  headlong  sway, 
Had  swept  the  scarlet  ranks  away. 
While  stretched  at  length  upon  the  floor, 
Again  I  fought  each  combat  o'er, 


Bbbotsforfc  345 


Pebbles  and  shells,  in  order  laid, 
The  mimic  ranks  of  war  displayed  ; 
And  onward  still  the  Scottish  L,ion  bore, 
And  still  the  scattered  Southron  fled  before." 

Scott  eyed  the  distant  height  of  Sandy 
Knowe  with  an  earnest  gaze  as  we  rode  along, 
and  said  he  had  often  thought  of  buying  the 
place,  repairing  the  old  tower,  and  making  it 
his  residence.  He  has  in  some  measure,  how 
ever,  paid  off  his  early  debt  of  gratitude,  in 
clothing  with  poetic  and  romantic  associations, 
by  his  tale  of  "The  Kve  of  St.  John."  It  is 
to  be  hoped  that  those  who  actually  possess 
so  interesting  a  monument  of  Scott's  early 
days,  will  preserve  it  from  further  dilapidation. 

Not  far  from  Sandy  Knowe,  Scott  pointed 
out  another  old  border  hold,  standing  on  the 
summit  of  a  hill,  which  had  been  a  kind  of 
enchanted  castle  to  him  in  his  boyhood.  It 
was  the  tower  of  Bemerside,  the  baronial 
residence  of  the  Haigs,  or  De  Hagas,  one  of 
the  oldest  families  of  the  border.  ' '  There  had 
seemed  to  him,"  he  said,  "almost  a  wizard 
spell  hanging  over  it,  in  consequence  of  a 
prophecy  of  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  in  which, 
in  his  young  days,  he  most  potently  believed  "  : 

"  Betide,  betide,  whate'er  betide, 
Haig  shall  be  Haig  of  Bemerside." 


346  Crayon 


Scott  added  some  particulars  which  showed 
that,  in  the  present  instance,  the  venerable 
Thomas  had  not  proved  a  false  prophet,  for  it 
was  a  noted  fact,  that,  amid  all  the  changes 
and  chances  of  the  border  —  through  all  the 
feuds,  and  forays,  and  sackings,  and  burnings, 
which  had  reduced  most  of  the  castles  to  ruins, 
and  the  proud  families  that  once  possessed 
them  to  poverty,  the  tower  of  Bemerside  still 
remained  unscathed,  and  was  still  the  strong 
hold  of  the  ancient  family  of  Haig. 

Prophecies,  however,  often  insure  their  own 
fulfilment.  It  is  very  probable  that  the  pre 
diction  of  Thomas  the  Rhymer  has  linked  the 
Haigs  to  their  tower,  as  their  rock  of  safety, 
and  has  induced  them  to  cling  to  it,  almost 
superstitiously,  through  hardships  and  incon 
veniences  that  would  otherwise  have  caused 
its  abandonment. 

I  afterwards  saw,  at  Dryburgh  Abbey,  the 
burying-place  of  the  predestinated  and  tena 
cious  family,  the  inscription  of  which  showed 
the  value  they  set  upon  their  antiquity  :  — 


Sepulturae, 
Antiquessimae  Familiae 

De  Haga 
De  Bemerside." 

In  reverting  to  the  days  of  his  childhood, 
Scott  observed  that  the  lameness  which  had  dis- 


Bbbotsforfc  347 


abled  him  in  infancy  gradually  decreased  ;  he 
soon  acquired  strength  in  his  limbs,  and  though 
he  always  limped,  he  became,  even  in  boyhood, 
a  great  walker.  He  used  frequently  to  stroll 
from  home  and  wander  about  the  country  for 
days  together,  picking  up  all  kinds  of  local 
gossip,  and  observing  popular  scenes  and  char 
acters.  His  father  used  to  be  vexed  with  him 
for  this  wandering  propensity,  and,  shaking 
his  head,  would  say  he  fancied  the  boy  would 
make  nothing  but  a  pedler.  As  he  grew  older, 
he  became  a  keen  sportsman,  and  passed  much 
of  his  time  hunting  and  shooting.  His  field- 
sports  led  him  into  the  most  wild  and  unfre 
quented  parts  of  the  country,  and  in  this  way 
he  picked  up  much  of  that  local  knowledge 
which  he  has  since  evinced  in  his  writings. 

His  first  visit  to  I,och  Katrine,  he  said,  was 
in  his  boyish  days,  on  a  shooting  excursion. 
The  island,  which  he  has  made  the  romantic 
residence  of  the  I^ady  of  the  I^ake,  was  then 
garrisoned  by  an  old  man  and  his  wife.  Their 
house  was  vacant :  they  had  put  the  key  under 
the  door,  and  were  absent  fishing.  It  was  at 
that  time  a  peaceful  residence,  but  became  af 
terwards  a  resort  of  smugglers,  until  they  were 
ferreted  out. 

In  after-years,  when  Scott  began  to  turn  this 
local  knowledge  to  literary  account,  he  re- 


348  Cragon  d&fscellang 


visited  many  of  those  scenes  of  his  early  ram- 
blings,  and  endeavored  to  secure  the  fugitive 
remains  of  the  traditions  and  songs  that  had 
charmed  his  boyhood.  When  collecting  ma 
terials  for  his  ''Border  Minstrelsy,"  he  used, 
he  said,  to  go  from  cottage  to  cottage  and  make 
the  old  wives  repeat  all  they  knew,  if  but  two 
lines  ;  and  by  putting  these  scraps  together,  he 
retrieved  many  a  fine  characteristic  old  ballad 
or  tradition  from  oblivion. 

I  regret  to  say  that  I  can  recollect  scarce 
anything  of  our  visit  to  Dryburgh  Abbey.  It 
is  on  the  estate  of  the  Karl  of  Buchan.  The 
religious  edifice  is  a  mere  ruin,  rich  in  Gothic 
antiquities,  but  especially  interesting  to  Scott, 
from  containing  the  family  vault,  and  the 
tombs  and  monuments  of  his  ancestors.  He 
appeared  to  feel  much  chagrin  at  their  being 
in  the  possession,  and  subject  to  the  intermed- 
dlings  of  the  Karl,  who  was  represented  as  a 
nobleman  of  an  eccentric  character.  The  lat 
ter,  however,  set  great  value  on  these  sepulchral 
relics,  and  had  expressed  a  lively  anticipation 
of  one  day  or  other  having  the  honor  of  bury 
ing  Scott,  and  adding  his  monument  to  the 
collection,  which  he  intended  should  be  worthy 
of  the  "mighty  minstrel  of  the  north," — a 
prospective  compliment  which  was  by  no  means 
relished  by  the  object  of  it. 


BbbotsforD  349 


One  of  my  pleasant  rambles  with  Scott, 
about  the  neighborhood  of  Abbotsford,  was 
taken  in  company  with  Mr.  William  L,aidlaw, 
the  steward  of  his  estate.  This  was  a  gentle 
man  for  whom  Scott  entertained  a  particular 
value.  He  had  been  born  to  a  competency, 
had  been  well  educated,  his  mind  was  richly 
stored  with  varied  information,  and  he  was  a 
man  of  sterling  moral  worth.  Having  been 
reduced  by  misfortune,  Scott  had  got  him  to 
take  charge  of  his  estate.  He  lived  at  a  small 
farm  on  the  hillside  above  Abbotsford,  and 
was  treated  by  Scott  as  a  cherished  and  confi 
dential  friend,  rather  than  a  dependant. 

As  the  day  was  showery,  Scott  was  attended 
by  one  of  his  retainers,  named  Tommie  Purdie, 
who  carried  his  plaid,  and  who  deserves  es 
pecial  mention.  Sophia  Scott  used  to  call  him 
her  father's  grand  vizier,  and  she  gave  a  play 
ful  account  one  evening,  as  she  was  hanging 
on  her  father's  arm,  of  the  consultations  which 
he  and  Tommie  used  to  have  about  matters 
relative  to  farming.  Purdie  was  tenacious  of 
his  opinions,  and  he  and  Scott  would  have 
long  disputes  in  front  of  the  house,  as  to  some 
thing  that  was  to  be  done  on  the  estate,  until 
the  latter,  fairly  tired  out,  would  abandon  the 
ground  and  the  argument,  exclaiming,  "  Well, 
well,  Tom,  have  it  your  own  way." 


350  dragon 


After  a  time,  however,  Purdie  would  present 
himself  at  the  door  of  the  parlor,  and  observe, 
"  I  ha'  been  thinking  over  the  matter,  and, 
upon  the  whole,  I  think  I  '11  take  your  honor's 
advice." 

Scott  laughed  heartily  when  this  anecdote 
was  told  of  him.  ' '  It  was  with  him  and  Tom, ' ' 
he  said,  ' '  as  it  was  with  an  old  laird  and  a  pet 
servant,  whom  he  had  indulged  until  he  was 
positive  beyond  all  endurance.  "This  wont 
do ! '  cried  the  old  laird,  in  a  passion,  '  we 
can't  live  together  any  longer — we  must  part.' 
'  An*  where  the  deil  does  your  honor  mean  to 
go  ? '  replied  the  other." 

I  would,  moreover,  observe  of  Tom  Purdie, 
that  he  was  a  firm  believer  in  ghosts,  and  war 
locks,  and  all  kinds  of  old  wives'  fable.  He 
was  a  religious  man,  too,  mingling  a  little  de 
gree  of  Scottish  pride  in  his  devotion ;  for 
though  his  salary  was  but  twenty  pounds  a 
year,  he  had  managed  to  afford  seven  pounds 
for  a  family  Bible.  It  is  true,  he  had  one  hun 
dred  pounds  clear  of  the  world,  and  was  looked 
up  to  by  his  comrades  as  a  man  of  property. 

In  the  course  of  our  morning's  walk  we 
stopped  at  a  small  house  belonging  to  one  of 
the  laborers  on  the  estate.  The  object  of  Scott's 
visit  was  to  inspect  a  relic  which  had  been 
digged  up  in  the  Roman  camp,  and  which,  if 


351 


I  recollect  right,  tie  pronounced  to  have  been  a 
tongs.  It  was  produced  by  the  cottager's  wife, 
a  ruddy,  healthy-looking  dame,  whom  Scott 
addressed  by  the  name  of  Ailie.  As  he  stood 
regarding  the  relic,  turning  it  round  and  round, 
and  making  comments  upon  it,  half  grave,  half 
comic,  with  the  cottage  group  around  him,  all 
joining  occasionally  in  the  colloquy,  the  inim 
itable  character  of  Monkbarns  was  again 
brought  to  mind,  and  I  seemed  to  see  before 
me  that  prince  of  antiquarians  and  humorists 
holding  forth  to  his  unlearned  and  unbelieving 
neighbors. 

Whenever  Scott  touched,  in  this  way,  upon 
local  antiquities,  and  in  all  his  familiar  con 
versations  about  local  traditions  and  supersti 
tions,  there  was  always  a  sly  and  quiet  humor 
running  at  the  bottom,  of  his  discourse,  and 
playing  about  his  countenance,  as  if  he  sported 
with  the  subject.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  he 
distrusted  his  own  enthusiasm,  and  was  dis 
posed  to  droll  upon  his  own  humors  and 
peculiarities,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  a  poetic 
gleam  in  his  eye  would  show  that  he  really 
took  a  strong  relish  and  interest  in  them.  "  It 
was  a  pity,"  he  said,  "  that  antiquarians  were 
generally  so  dry,  for  the  subjects  they  handled 
were  rich  in  historical  and  poetic  recollections, 
in  picturesque  details,  in  quaint  and  heroic 


352  Crayon 


characteristics,  and  in  all  kinds  of  curious  and 
obsolete  ceremonials.  They  are  always  grop 
ing  among  the  rarest  materials  for  poetry,  but 
they  have  no  idea  of  turning  them  to  poetic 
use.  Now  every  fragment  from  old  times  has, 
in  some  degree,  its  story  with  it,  or  gives  an 
inkling  of  something  characteristic  of  the 
circumstances  and  manners  of  its  day,  and  so 
sets  the  imagination  at  work. '  * 

For  my  own  part,  I  never  met  with  an  anti 
quarian  so  delightful,  either  in  his  writings,  or 
his  conversation  ;  and  the  quiet  subacid  humor 
that  was  prone  to  mingle  in  his  disquisitions, 
gave  them,  to  me,  a  peculiar  and  exquisite 
flavor.  But  he  seemed,  in  fact,  to  undervalue 
everything  that  concerned  himself.  The  play 
of  his  genius  was  so  easy  that  he  was  uncon 
scious  of  its  mighty  power,  and  made  light  of 
those  sports  of  intellect  that  shamed  the  efforts 
and  labors  of  other  minds. 

Our  ramble  this  morning  took  us  again  up 
the  Rhymer's  Glen,  and  by  Huntley  Bank, 
and  Huntley  Wood,  and  the  silver  waterfall 
overhung  with  weeping-birches  and  mountain- 
ashes,  those  delicate  and  beautiful  trees  which 
grace  the  green  shaws  and  burnsides  of  Scot 
land.  The  heather,  too,  that  closely- woven 
robe  of  Scottish  landscape  which  covers  the 
nakedness  of  its  hills  and  mountains,  tinted 


BbbotsforO  353 


the  neighborhood  with  soft  and  rich  colors. 
As  we  ascended  the  glen,  the  prospects  opened 
before  us  ;  Melrose,  with  its  towers  and  pin 
nacles,  lay  below  ;  beyond  was  the  Eildon 
hills,  the  Cowden  Knowes,  the  Tweed,  the 
Galla  Water,  and  all  the  storied  vicinity  ;  the 
whole  landscape  varied  by  gleams  of  sunshine 
and  driving  showers. 

Scott,  as  usual,  took  the  lead,  limping  along 
with  great  activity,  and  in  joyous  mood,  giving 
scraps  of  border  rhymes  and  border  stories  ; 
two  or  three  times  in  the  course  of  our  walk 
there  were  drizzling  showers,  which  I  supposed 
would  put  an  end  to  our  ramble,  but  my  com 
panions  trudged  on  as  unconcernedly  as  if  it 
had  been  fine  weather. 

At  length,  I  asked  whether  we  had  not 
better  seek  some  shelter.  * '  True, ' '  said  Scott, 
' '  I  did  not  recollect  that  you  were  not  ac 
customed  to  our  Scottish  mists.  This  is  a 
lachrymose  climate,  evermore  showering.  We 
however,  are  children  of  the  mist,  and  must  not 
mind  a  little  whimpering  of  the  clouds  any 
more  than  a  man  must  mind  the  weeping  of  an 
hysterical  wife.  As  you  are  not  accustomed 
to  be  wet  through,  as  a  matter  of  course,  in  a 
morning's  walk,  we  will  bide  a  bit  under  the 
lee  of  this  bank  until  the  shower  is  over." 
Taking  his  seat  under  shelter  of  a  thicket,  he 


354  Crayon 


called  to  his  man  George  for  his  tartan  ;  then 
turning  to  me,  "  Come,"  said  he,  "  come  under 
my  plaidy,  as  the  old  song  goes ;  "  so,  making 
me  nestle  down  beside  him,  he  wrapped  a  part 
of  the  plaid  round  me,  and  took  me,  as  he  said, 
under  his  wing. 

While  we  were  thus  nestled  together,  he 
pointed  to  a  hole  in  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
glen.  That,  he  said,  was  the  hole  of  an  old 
gray  badger,  who  was,  doubtless,  snugly 
housed  in  this  bad  weather.  Sometimes  he 
saw  him  at  the  entrance  of  his  hole,  like  a 
hermit  at  the  door  of  his  cell,  telling  his  beads, 
or  reading  a  homily.  He  had  a  great  respect 
for  the  venerable  anchorite,  and  would  not 
suffer  him  to  be  disturbed.  He  was  a  kind  of 
successor  to  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  and  perhaps 
might  be  Thomas  himself  returned  from  fairy 
land,  but  still  under  fairy  spell. 

Some  accident  turned  the  conversation  upon 
Hogg,  the  poet,  in  which  L,aidlaw,  who  was 
seated  beside  us,  took  a  part.  Hogg  had  once 
been  a  shepherd  in  the  service  of  his  father, 
and  Laidlaw  gave  many  interesting  anecdotes 
of  him,  of  which  I  now  retain  no  recollection. 
They  used  to  tend  the  sheep  together  when 
L,aidlaw  was  a  boy,  and  Hogg  would  recite 
the  first  struggling  conceptions  of  his  muse. 
At  night,  when  Laidlaw  was  quartered  com- 


BbbotsforD  355 


fortably  in  bed,  in  the  farmhouse,  poor  Hogg 
would  take  to  the  shepherd's  hut,  in  the  field, 
on  the  hillside,  and  there  lie  awake  for  hours 
together,  and  look  at  the  stars  and  make 
poetry,  which  he  would  repeat  the  next  day 
to  his  companion. 

Scott  spoke  in  warm  terms  of  Hogg,  and 
repeated  passages  from  his  beautiful  poem  of 
Kelmeny,  to  which  he  gave  great  and  well- 
merited  praise.  He  gave,  also,  some  amusing 
anecdotes  of  Hogg  and  his  publisher,  Black- 
wood,  who  was  at  that  time  just  rising  into 
the  bibliographical  importance  which  he  has 
since  enjoyed. 

Hogg,  in  one  of  his  poems,  I  believe  the 
''Pilgrims  of  the  Sun,"  had  dabbled  a  little 
in  metaphysics,  and,  like  his  heroes,  had  got 
into  the  clouds.  Blackwood,  who  began  to 
affect  criticism,  argued  stoutly  with  him  as  to 
the  necessity  of  omitting  or  elucidating  some 
obscure  passage.  Hogg  was  immovable. 

( *  But,  man, ' '  said  Blackwood,  * '  I  dinna  ken 
what  ye  mean  in  this  passage." — "  Hout  tout, 
man,"  replied  Hogg,  impatiently,  "  I  dinna 
ken  always  what  I  mean  mysel'."  There  is 
many  a  metaphysical  poet  in  the  same  predica 
ment  with  honest  Hogg. 

Scott  promised  to  invite  the  Shepherd  to 
Abbotsford  during  my  visit,  and  I  anticipated 


356  Crayon 


much  gratification  in  meeting  with  him,  from 
the  account  I  had  received  of  his  character 
and  manners,  and  the  great  pleasure  I  had 
derived  from  his  works.  Circumstances,  how 
ever,  prevented  Scott  from  performing  his 
promise  ;  and  to  my  great  regret  I  left  Scot 
land  without  seeing  one  of  its  most  original 
and  national  characters. 

When  the  weather  held  up,  we  continued 
our  walk  until  we  came  to  a  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  in  the  bosom  of  the  mountain,  called,  if 
I  recollect  right,  the  Lake  of  Cauldshiel. 
Scott  prided  himself  much  upon  this  little 
Mediterranean  sea  in  his  dominions,  and  hoped 
I  was  not  too  much  spoiled  by  our  great  lakes 
in  America  to  relish  it.  He  proposed  to  take 
me  out  to  the  centre  of  it,  to  a  fine  point  of 
view :  for  which  purpose  we  embarked  in  a 
small  boat,  which  had  been  put  on  the  lake 
by  his  neighbor,  Lord  Somerville.  As  I  was 
about  to  step  on  board,  I  observed  in  large 
letters  on  one  of  the  benches,  "Search  No.  2." 
I  paused  for  a  moment  and  repeated  the  in 
scription  aloud,  trying  to  recollect  something 
I  had  heard  or  read  to  which  it  alluded. 
"Pshaw,"  cried  Scott,  "it  is  only  some  of 
Lord  Somerville's  nonsense; — get  in!"  In 
an  instant  scenes  in  the  "Antiquary"  con 
nected  with  "Search  No.  i,"  flashed  upon  my 


357 


mind.  "  Ah  !  I  remember  now,"  said  I,  and 
with  a  laugh  took  my  seat,  but  adverted  no 
more  to  the  circumstance. 

We  had  a  pleasant  row  about  the  lake,  which 
commanded  some  pretty  scenery.  The  most 
interesting  circumstance  connected  with  it, 
however,  according  to  Scott,  was,  that  it  was 
haunted  by  a  bogle  in  the  shape  of  a  water- 
bull,  which  lived  in  the  deep  parts,  and  now 
and  then  came  forth  upon  dry  land  and  made 
a  tremendous  roaring,  that  shook  the  very 
hills.  This  story  had  been  current  in  the  vicin 
ity  from  time  immemorial ; — there  was  a  man 
living  who  declared  he  had  seen  the  bull, — 
and  he  was  believed  by  many  of  his  simple 
neighbors.  "  I  don't  choose  to  contradict  the 
tale, ' '  said  Scott,  "for  I  am  willing  to  have 
my  lake  stocked  with  any  fish,  flesh,  or  fowl 
that  my  neighbors  think  proper  to  put  into  it  ; 
and  these  old  wives'  fables  are  a  kind  of  prop 
erty  in  Scotland  that  belong  to  the  estates  and 
go  with  the  soil.  Our  streams  and  lochs  are 
like  the  rivers  and  pools  in  Germany,  that  have 
all  their  Wasser-Nixen,  or  water-witches,  and 
I  have  a  fancy  for  these  kind  of  amphibious 
bogles  and  hobgoblins." 

Scott  went  on,  after  we  had  landed,  to  make 
many  remarks,  mingled  with  picturesque  anec 
dotes  concerning  the  fabulous  beings  with 


358  Crayon 


which  the  Scotch  were  apt  to  people  the  wild 
streams  and  lochs  that  occur  in  the  solemn  and 
lonely  scenes  of  their  mountains  ;  and  to  com 
pare  them  with  similiar  superstitions  among  the 
northern  nations  of  Europe ;  but  Scotland,  he 
said,  was  above  all  other  countries  for  this  wild 
and  vivid  progeny  of  the  fancy  from  the  nature 
of  the  scenery,  the  misty  magnificence  and 
vagueness  of  the  climate,  the  wild  and  gloomy 
events  of  its  history  ;  the  clannish  divisions  of 
its  people ;  their  local  feelings,  notions,  and 
prejudices  ;  the  individuality  of  their  dialect, 
in  which  all  kinds  of  odd  and  peculiar  notions 
were  incorporated  ;  by  the  secluded  life  of  their 
mountaineers  ;  the  lonely  habits  of  their  pas 
toral  people,  much  of  whose  time  was  passed 
on  the  solitary  hillsides  ;  their  traditional  songs, 
which  clothed  every  rock  and  stream  with  old- 
world  stories,  handed  down  from  age  to  age, 
and  generation  to  generation.  The  Scottish 
mind,  he  said,  was  made  up  of  poetry  and 
strong  common  sense  ;  and  the  very  strength 
of  the  latter  gave  perpetuity  and  luxuriance  to 
the  former.  It  was  a  strong  tenacious  soil, 
into  which,  when  once  a  seed  of  poetry  fell,  it 
struck  deep  root  and  brought  forth  abundantly. 
*  *  You  will  never  weed  these  popular  stories  and 
songs  and  superstitions  out  of  Scotland,"  said 
he.  *  *  It  is  not  so  much  that  the  people  believe 


Bbbotsforfc  359 


in  them,  as  that  they  delight  in  them.  They 
belong  to  the  native  hills  and  streams  of  which 
they  are  fond,  and  to  the  history  of  their  fore 
fathers,  of  which  they  are  proud. 

"  It  would  do  your  heart  good,"  continued 
he,  "to  see  a  number  of  our  poor  country 
people  seated  round  the  ingle  nook,  which  is 
generally  capacious  enough,  and  passing  the 
long  dark  dreary  winter  nights  listening  to 
some  old  wife,  or  strolling  gaberlunzie,  dealing 
out  auld-world  stories  about  bogles  and  war 
locks,  or  about  raids  and  forays,  and  border 
skirmishes  ;  or  reciting  some  ballad  stuck  full 
of  those  fighting  names  that  stir  up  a  true 
Scotchman's  blood  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet. 
These  traditional  tales  and  ballads  have  lived 
for  ages  in  mere  oral  circulation,  being  passed 
from  father  to  son,  or  rather  from  grandame  to 
grandchild,  and  are  a  kind  of  hereditary  prop 
erty  of  the  poor  peasantry,  of  which  it  would 
be  hard  to  deprive  them,  as  they  have  not  cir 
culating  libraries  to  supply  them  with  works 
of  fiction  in  their  place. ' ' 

I  do  not  pretend  to  give  the  precise  words, 
but,  as  nearly  as  I  can  from  scanty  memoran 
dums  and  vague  recollections,  the  leading  ideas 
of  Scott.  I  am  constantly  sensible,  however, 
how  far  I  fall  short  of  his  copiousness  and 
richness. 


360  dragon 


He  went  on  to  speak  of  the  elves  and  sprites, 
so  frequent  in  Scottish  legend.  '  *  Our  fairies, 
however,"  said  he,  "though  they  dress  in 
green,  and  gambol  by  moonlight  about  the 
banks,  and  shaws,  and  burnsides,  are  not  such 
pleasant  little  folks  as  the  Knglish  fairies,  but 
are  apt  to  bear  more  of  the  warlock  in  their 
natures,  and  to  play  spiteful  tricks.  When  I 
was  a  boy,  I  used  to  look  wistfully  at  the  green 
hillocks  that  were  said  to  be  haunted  by  fairies, 
and  felt  sometimes  as  if  I  should  like  to  lie 
down  by  them  and  sleep,  and  be  carried  off  to 
Fairyland,  only  that  I  did  not  like  some  of 
the  cantrips  which  used  now  and  then  to  be 
played  off  upon  visitors." 

Here  Scott  recounted,  in  graphic  style,  and 
with  much  humor,  a  little  story  which  used  to 
be  current  in  the  neighborhood,  of  an  honest 
burgess  of  Selkirk,  who,  being  at  work  upon 
the  hill  of  Peatlaw,  fell  asleep  upon  one  of 
these  * '  fairy  knowes, ' '  or  hillocks.  When  he 
awoke,  he  rubbed  his  eyes  and  gazed  about 
him  with  astonishment,  for  he  was  in  the 
market-place  of  a  great  city,  with  a  crowd  of 
people  bustling  about  him,  not  one  of  whom 
he  knew.  At  length  he  accosted  a  by-stander, 
and  asked  him  the  name  of  the  place.  "  Hout, 
man,"  replied  the  other,  "are  ye  in  the  heart 
o'  Glasgow,  and  speer  the  name  of  it  ?  "  The 


BbbotsforD  361 


poor  man  was  astonished,  and  would  not  be 
lieve  either  ears  or  eyes  ;  he  insisted  that  he 
had  laid  down  to  sleep  but  half  an  hour  before 
on  the  Peatlaw,  near  Selkirk.  He  came  well- 
nigh  being  taken  up  for  a  madman,  when, 
fortunately,  a  Selkirk  man  came  by,  who  knew 
him,  and  took  charge  of  him,  and  conducted 
him  back  to  his  native  place.  Here,  however, 
he  was  likely  to  fare  no  better,  when  he  spoke 
of  having  been  whisked  in  his  sleep  from  the 
Peatlaw  to  Glasgow.  The  truth  of  the  matter 
at  length  came  out ;  his  coat  which  he  had 
taken  off  when  at  work  on  the  Peatlaw,  was 
found  lying  near  a  ''fairy  knowe  "  ;  and  his 
bonnet  which  was  missing,  was  discovered  on 
the  weathercock  of  Lanark  steeple.  So  it  was 
as  clear  as  day  that  he  had  been  carried  through 
the  air  by  the  fairies  while  he  was  sleeping, 
and  his  bonnet  had  been  blown  off  by  the  way. 

I  give  this  little  story  but  meagrely  from  a 
scanty  memorandum  ;  Scott  has  related  it  in 
somewhat  different  style  in  a  note  to  one  of 
his  poems  ;  but  in  narration  these  anecdotes 
derived  their  chief  zest  from  the  quiet  but  de 
lightful  humor,  the  bonhomie  with  which  he 
seasoned  them,  and  the  sly  glance  of  the  eye 
from  under  his  bushy  eyebrows,  with  which 
they  were  accompanied. 

That  day  at  dinner  we  had  Mr.  L,aidlaw  and 


362  Crayon 


his  wife,  and  a  female  friend  who  accompanied 
them.  The  latter  was  a  very  intelligent,  re 
spectable  person,  about  the  middle  age,  and 
was  treated  with  particular  attention  and  cour 
tesy  by  Scott.  Our  dinner  was  a  most  agreeable 
one ;  for  the  guests  were  evidently  cherished 
visitors  to  the  house,  and  felt  that  they  were 
appreciated. 

When  they  were  gone,  Scott  spoke  of  them 
in  the  most  cordial  manner.  *  *  I  wished  to 
show  you,"  said  he,  "some  of  our  really  ex 
cellent,  plain  Scottish  people ;  not  fine  gen 
tlemen  and  ladies,  for  such  you  can  meet 
everywhere,  and  they  are  everywhere  the  same. 
The  character  of  a  nation  is  not  to  be  learnt 
from  its  fine  folks. ' ' 

He  then  went  on  with  a  particular  eulogium 
on  the  lady  who  had  accompanied  the  I^aidlaws. 
She  was  the  daughter,  he  said,  of  a  poor  coun 
try  clergyman,  who  had  died  in  debt,  and  left 
her  an  orphan  and  destitute.  Having  had  a 
good  plain  education,  she  immediately  set  up  a 
child's  school,  and  had  soon  a  numerous  flock 
under  her  care,  by  which  she  earned  a  decent 
maintenance.  That,  however,  was  not  her 
main  object.  Her  first  care  was  to  pay  off 
her  father's  debts,  that  no  ill  word  or  ill  will 
might  rest  upon  his  memory.  This,  by  dint  of 
Scottish  economy,  backed  by  filial  reverence 


BbbotsforD  363 


and  pride,  she  accomplished,  though  in  the 
effort  she  subjected  herself  to  every  privation. 
Not  content  with  this,  she  in  certain  instances 
refused  to  take  pay  for  the  tuition  of  the  chil 
dren  of  some  of  her  neighbors,  who  had  be 
friended  her  father  in  his  need,  and  had  since 
fallen  into  poverty.  "  In  a  word,"  added 
Scott,  "  she  is  a  fine  old  Scotch  girl ;  and  I 
delight  in  her,  more  than  in  many  a  fine  lady  I 
have  known, — and  I  have  known  many  of  the 
finest." 

It  is  time,  however,  to  draw  this  rambling 
narrative  to  a  close.  Several  days  were  passed 
by  me,  in  the  way  I  have  attempted  to  describe, 
in  almost  constant,  familiar,  and  joyous  con 
versation  with  Scott ;  it  was  as  if  I  were 
admitted  to  a  social  communion  with  Shake 
speare,  for  it  was  with  one  of  a  kindred,  if  not 
equal  genius.  Every  night  I  retired  with  my 
mind  filled  with  delightful  recollections  of  the 
day,  and  every  morning  I  rose  with  the  cer 
tainty  of  new  enjoyment.  The  days  thus  spent 
I  shall  ever  look  back  to  as  among  the  very 
happiest  of  my  life,  for  I  was  conscious  at  the 
time  of  being  happy. 

The  only  sad  moment  that  I  experienced  at 
Abbotsford  was  that  of  my  departure ;  but  it 
was  cheered  with  the  prospect  of  soon  return 
ing  ;  for  I  had  promised,  after  making  a  tour 


364  Crayon  fl&iscellang 


in  the  Highlands,  to  come  and  pass  a  few  more 
days  on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed,  when  Scott 
intended  to  invite  Hogg  the  poet  to  meet  me. 
I  took  a  kind  farewell  of  the  family,  with 
each  of  whom  I  had  been  highly  pleased  ;  if  I 
have  refrained  from  dwelling  particularly  on 
their  several  characters,  and  giving  anecdotes 
of  them  individually,  it  is  because  I  consider 
them  shielded  by  the  sanctity  of  domestic  life  : 
Scott,  on  the  contrary,  belongs  to  history.  As 
he  accompanied  me  on  foot,  however,  to  a 
small  gate  on  the  confines  of  his  premises,  I 
could  not  refrain  from  expressing  the  enjoy 
ment  I  had  experienced  in  his  domestic  circle, 
and  passing  some  warm  eulogiums  on  the 
young  folks  from  whom  I  had  just  parted.  I 
shall  never  forget  his  reply.  u  They  have  kind 
hearts,"  said  he,  "  and  that  is  the  main  point 
as  to  human  happiness.  They  love  one  another, 
poor  things,  which  is  everything  in  domestic 
life.  The  best  wish  I  can  make  you,  my 
friend,"  added  he,  laying  his  hand  upon  my 
shoulder,  * '  is,  that  when  you  return  to  your 
own  country  you  may  get  married,  and  have  a 
family  of  young  bairns  about  you.  If  you  are 
happy,  there  they  are  to  share  your  happiness 
— and  if  you  are  otherwise — there  they  are  to 
comfort  you." 

By  this  time  we  had  reached  the  gate,  when 


Hb&otsforD  365 


he  halted,  and  took  my  hand.  ' '  I  will  not  say 
farewell,"  said  he,  "for  it  is  always  a  painful 
word,  but  I  will  say,  come  again.  When  you 
have  made  your  tour  to  the  Highlands,  come 
here  and  give  me  a  few  more  days — but  come 
when  you  please,  you  will  always  find  Abbots- 
ford  open  to  you,  and  a  hearty  welcome. ' ' 

I  have  thus  given,  in  a  rude  style,  my  main 
recollections  of  what  occurred  during  my  so 
journ  at  Abbotsford,  and  I  feel  mortified  that 
I  can  give  but  such  meagre,  scattered,  and  col 
orless  details  of  what  was  so  copious,  rich,  and 
varied.  During  several  days  that  I  passed 
there,  Scott  was  in  admirable  vein.  From  early 
morn  until  dinner-time  he  was  rambling  about, 
showing  me  the  neighborhood,  and  during 
dinner,  and  until  late  at  night,  engaged  in  so 
cial  conversation.  No  time  was  reserved  for 
himself ;  he  seemed  as  if  his  only  occupation 
was  to  entertain  me  ;  and  yet  I  was  almost  an 
entire  stranger  to  him,  one  of  whom  he  knew 
nothing  but  an  idle  book  I  had  written,  and 
which,  some  years  before,  had  amused  him. 
But  such  was  Scott — he  appeared  to  have  noth 
ing  to  do  but  lavish  his  time,  attention,  and 
conversation  on  those  around.  It  was  difficult 
to  imagine  what  time  he  found  to  write  those 
volumes  that  were  incessantly  issuing  from  the 


366  Crayon 


press ;  all  of  which,  too,  were  of  a  nature  to 
require  reading  and  research.  I  could  not  find 
that  his  life  was  ever  otherwise  than  a  life  of 
leisure  and  hap-hazard  recreation,  such  as  it 
was  during  my  visit.  He  scarce  ever  balked  a 
party  of  pleasure,  or  a  sporting  excursion,  and 
rarely  pleaded  his  own  concerns  as  an  excuse  for 
rejecting  those  of  others.  During  my  visit  I 
heard  of  other  visitors  who  had  preceded  me, 
and  who  must  have  kept  him  occupied  for  many 
days,  and  I  have  had  an  opportunity  of  know 
ing  the  course  of  his  daily  life  for  some  time 
subsequently.  Not  long  after  my  departure 
from  Abbotsford,  my  friend  Wilkie  arrived 
there,  to  paint  a  picture  of  the  Scott  family. 
He  found  the  house  full  of  guests.  Scott's 
whole  time  was  taken  up  in  riding  and  driving 
about  the  country,  or  in  social  conversation  at 
home.  "All  this  time,"  said  Wilkie  to  me, 
' '  I  did  not  presume  to  ask  Mr.  Scott  to  sit  for 
his  portrait,  for  I  saw  he  had  not  a  moment  to 
spare  ;  I  waited  for  the  guests  to  go  away,  but 
as  fast  as  one  went  another  arrived,  and  so  it 
continued  for  several  days,  and  with  each  set 
he  was  completely  occupied.  At  length  all 
went  off,  and  we  were  quiet.  I  thought,  how 
ever,  Mr.  Scott  will  now  shut  himself  up 
among  his  books  and  papers,  for  he  has  to  make 
up  for  lost  time  ;  it  won't  do  for  me  to  ask  him 


BbbotstorD  367 


now  to  sit  for  his  picture.  L,aidlaw,  who  man 
aged  his  estate,  came  in,  and  Scott  turned  to 
him,  as  I  supposed,  to  consult  about  business. 
*  L,aidlaw,'  said  he,  *  to-morrow  morning  we  '11 
go  across  the  water  and  take  the  dogs  with  us : 
there  's  a  place  where  I  think  we  shall  be  able 
to  find  a  hare. ' 

"In  short,"  added  Wilkie,  "I  found  that 
instead  of  business,  he  was  thinking  only  of 
amusement,  as  if  he  had  nothing  in  the  world 
to  occupy  him  ;  so  I  no  longer  feared  to  intrude 
upon  him." 

The  conversation  of  Scott  was  frank,  hearty, 
picturesque,  and  dramatic.  During  the  time 
of  my  visit  he  inclined  to  the  comic  rather  than 
the  grave,  in  his  anecdotes  and  stories,  and 
such,  I  was  told,  was  his  general  inclination. 
He  relished  a  joke,  or  a  trait  of  humor  in  social 
intercourse,  and  laughed  with  right  good  will. 
He  talked  not  for  effect,  nor  display,  but  from 
the  flow  of  his  spirits,  the  stores  of  his  memory, 
and  the  vigor  of  his  imagination.  He  had  a 
natural  turn  for  narration,  and  his  narratives 
and  descriptions  were  without  effort,  yet  won 
derfully  graphic.  He  placed  the  scene  before 
you  like  a  picture  ;  he  gave  the  dialogue  with 
the  appropriate  dialect  or  peculiarities,  and 
described  the  appearance  and  characters  of  his 
personages  with  that  spirit  and  felicity  evinced 


368  Crayon 


in  his  writings.  Indeed,  his  conversation  re 
minded  me  continually  of  his  novels  ;  and  it 
seemed  to  me,  that,  during  the  whole  time  I 
was  with  him,  he  talked  enough  to  fill  volumes, 
and  that  they  could  not  have  been  filled  more 
delightfully. 

He  was  as  good  a  listener  as  talker,  appreci 
ating  everything  that  others  said,  however 
humble  might  be  their  rank  or  pretensions, 
and  was  quick  to  testify  his  perception  of 
any  point  in  their  discourse.  He  arrogated 
nothing  to  himself,  but  was  perfectly  unas 
suming  and  unpretending,  entering  with  heart 
and  soul  into  the  business,  or  pleasure,  or,  I  had 
almost  said,  folly,  of  the  hour  and  the  company. 
No  one's  concerns,  no  one's  thoughts,  no  one's 
opinions,  no  one's  tastes  and  pleasures  seemed 
beneath  him.  He  made  himself  so  thoroughly 
the  companion  of  those  with  whom  he  hap 
pened  to  be,  that  they  forgot  for  a  time  his 
vast  superiority,  and  only  recollected  and  won 
dered,  when  all  was  over,  that  it  was  Scott  with 
whom  they  had  been  on  such  familiar  terms, 
and  in  whose  society  they  had  felt  so  perfectly 
at  their  ease. 

It  was  delightful  to  observe  the  generous 
spirit  in  which  he  spoke  of  all  his  literary 
contemporaries,  quoting  the  beauties  of  their 
works,  and  this,  too,  with  respect  to  persons 


Bbbotsforfc  369 


with  whom  he  might  have  been  supposed  to  be 
at  variance  in  literature  or  politics.  Jeffrey, 
it  was  thought,  had  ruffled  his  plumes  in  one 
of  his  reviews,  yet  Scott  spoke  of  him  in  terms 
of  high  and  warm  eulogy,  both  as  an  author 
and  as  a  man. 

His  humor  in  conversation,  as  in  his  works, 
was  genial  and  free  from  all  causticity.  He 
had  a  quick  perception  of  faults  and  foibles, 
but  he  looked  upon  poor  human  nature  with 
an  indulgent  eye,  relishing  what  was  good  and 
pleasant,  tolerating  what  was  frail,  and  pitying 
what  was  evil.  It  is  this  beneficent  spirit 
which  gives  such  an  air  of  bonhomie  to  Scott's 
humor  throughout  all  his  works.  He  played 
with  the  foibles  and  errors  of  his  fellow-beings, 
and  presented  them  in  a  thousand  whimsical 
and  characteristic  lights,  but  the  kindness  and 
generosity  of  his  nature  would  not  allow  him 
to  be  a  satirist.  I  do  not  recollect  a  sneer 
throughout  his  conversation  any  more  than 
there  is  throughout  his  works. 

Such  is  a  rough  sketch  of  Scott,  as  I  saw 
him  in  private  life,  not  merely  at  the  time  of 
the  visit  here  narrated,  but  in  the  casual  inter 
course  of  subsequent  years.  Of  his  public 
character  and  merits  all  the  world  can  judge. 
His  works  have  incorporated  themselves  with 
the  thoughts  and  concerns  of  the  whole  civilized 


370  Crayon 


world,  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  and  have  had 
a  controlling  influence  over  the  age  in  which 
he  lived.  But  when  did  a  human  being  ever 
exercise  an  influence  more  salutary  and  benig 
nant  ?  Who  is  there  that,  on  looking  back 
over  a  great  portion  of  his  life,  does  not  find 
the  genius  of  Scott  administering  to  his  pleas 
ures,  beguiling  his  cares,  and  soothing  his 
lonely  sorrows  ?  Who  does  not  still  regard  his 
works  as  a  treasury  of  pure  enjoyment,  an 
armory  to  which  to  resort  in  time  of  need,  to 
find  weapons  with  which  to  fight  off  the  evils 
and  the  griefs  of  life  ?  For  my  own  part,  in 
periods  of  dejection,  I  have  hailed  the  announce 
ment  of  a  new  work  from  his  pen  as  an  earnest 
of  certain  pleasure  in  store  for  me,  and  have 
looked  forward  to  it  as  a  traveller  in  a  waste 
looks  to  a  green  spot  at  a  distance,  where  he 
feels  assured  of  solace  and  refreshment.  When 
I  consider  how  much  he  has  thus  contributed 
to  the  better  hours  of  my  past  existence,  and 
how  independent  his  works  still  make  me,  at 
times,  of  all  the  world  for  my  enjoyment,  I 
bless  my  stars  that  cast  my  lot  in  his  days,  to 
be  thus  cheered  and  gladdened  by  the  out 
pourings  of  his  genius.  I  consider  it  one  of 
the  greatest  advantages  that  I  have  derived 
from  my  literary  career,  that  it  has  elevated  me 
into  genial  communion  with  such  a  spirit ;  and 


Bbbotsforfc  371 


as  a  tribute  of  gratitude  for  his  friendship,  and 
veneration  for  his  memory,  I  cast  this  humble 
stone  upon  his  cairn,  which  will  soon,  I  trust, 
be  piled  aloft  with  the  contribution  of  abler 
hands. 


END  OF  VOLUME  i. 


THIS  BOOK   IS  DUE  ON   THE   LAST   DATE 
STAMPED   BELOW 


BOOKS  REQUESTED   BY  ANOTHER   BORROWER 
ARE  SUBJECT  TO  RECALL  AFTER  ONE  WEEK. 
RENEWED   BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO 
IMMEDIATE   RECALL 


LIBRARY,   UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,   DAVIS 

Bool^  Slip-Series  458 


63781 


PS      Irving,  W. 
2050      Works . 
E91 
v.10 


